Unexpected Sparks
by GreensAMC
Summary: Our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks.  A 16 year-old Brandon L. Walker comes to Tree Hill looking for his birth parents' permission to be emancipated.  AU after Season 3, BL, NH, JP. Influenced by LUX.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **The other little CW show, LUX, inspired me to write this fiction. I will only continue if you guys like the idea. Below is a prologue setting the scene before we delve into the real story. If you've read _In My Sky at Twilight, _you already know I love dialogue, so the style will change somewhat after this chapter. At its core, this story is all BL, but I also intend to bring in NH, and to some extent JP. If the feedback is positive for the teenage scene, I have ideas for Jamie, Jenny, Brandon & Co as well. Let me know if you think I should continue this. Thanks for reading!

**Prologue**

Samuel Johnson, the 18th century English poet, once said: "_Our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks_." Who among us doesn't wait impatiently for the next wind of change to hit? How long does it take, a day perhaps or many years, for that _unexpected spark _to ignite our world unleashing meaning, a purpose, into our lives? Do we ever learn to anticipate the unanticipated, to expect the unexpected? And if we don't, do we become just a number, a faceless, aimless repeat of yesterday for all the tomorrows to come? There's an essence to our being, a heart and soul in the fundamental nature of our existence. Sometimes we bury it deep at the bottom of the ocean so that we don't have to remember what it feels like to hurt. Sometimes the mirage tricks us disappearing before capture so that we can't remember what it feels like to be truly happy. We try once. And, again. Then, we give up. Cry, maybe. Forget. Move on. But it's always there. The promise of an _unexpected spark_. Just around the corner. Sometimes, it only takes a knock on a stranger's door. A phone call to an old friend. The long-awaited answer to a question we never dared to ask. One lie, a long time ago. Then, finally the truth, years later. And, everything changes. We can't stop it. Not that we would want to.

34 years-old, 5'6'', 118lbs, single-white-female, auburn hair, hazel eyes, dimples, Fashion Institute of Technology valedictorian, CEO and head-designer of fashion company, New Yorker. That, in a nutshell, is Brooke P. Davis. From the outside, she lives the life everyone wanted for and expected of her...shiny, glamorous, expensive, sexy, never a dull moment. From the inside, she lives the life meticulously planned for her...every minute of her time booked weeks in advance, every face she meets and every hand she shakes carefully pre-selected by her assistants. Yes, plural. She has three personal assistants. She doesn't sleep for more than four hours a night. She hasn't taken a vacation in years. A fact her boyfriend of two-years, Kyle, tried unsuccessfully to change on more than one occasion. But vacations take her away from her comfortable, usual routine. The plan gets messy, and she can't have that. She is always in control. So much so that she even knows Kyle is proposing that night. She knows where, at what time, and how. She knows what the ring looks like and how he'll ask. She hasn't decided what her answer will be. Yet. But, she's planning that too, just like she plans everything else in her life. She's afraid that if she stops for one second, she'll remember the hole in her heart. Brooke P. Davis doesn't have room for _unexpected sparks_. She made sure of that the last time one set her whole world in flames sixteen years ago. She buried the hurt deep at the bottom of the ocean; she knows true happiness is just a mirage. She still cries, sometimes. She'll never forget. She pretends to move on. But it's always there. The best part of her, she gave up. She thinks she put out the fire, but she'll soon find out that the flames still burn. And, everything will change. She won't be able to stop it. Not that she'll want to.

34 years-old, 6', 162lbs, single-white-male, dirty blond hair, blue eyes, scruffy, college drop-out, owner of auto repair shop, born and bred in North Carolina. That, in a nutshell, is Lucas E. Scott. From the outside, he lives the life no one ever wanted for or expected of him...quiet, dull, simple, easy, manual hard work, grease stains and overalls. From the inside, he lives the life he believes he deserves ...no plans, no dreams, no hopes, no difference between yesterday and tomorrow. Or the day after. He doesn't sleep for more than a few hours a night. Not because he's busy. Not at all. He mostly works nine to five. It's because he can't sleep; the same nightmare has been waking him up every night for almost seventeen years. He's moved around so many times since graduation trying to get rid of it, but it followed him everywhere. He's seen it thousands of times by now, but every single time the pain feels brand new. He remembers every detail. He even wrote it down once. Yes, he still writes. It's the only time he escapes the imaginary jail cell he locked his mind in. But it doesn't last very long; because he genuinely believes those bars around him are justified. He has boxes full of unfinished manuscripts. He never lets himself write the final act. Maybe he doesn't believe in or even like endings. Maybe he's waiting for something, an inspiration, an awakening. For the last three years, he's been living in Charlotte where he recently met Lindsay, a high-school science teacher. She started with a toothbrush and a drawer, but gradually moved herself into his apartment over the garage. He let her. Because he has become comfortable on the sidelines of his life watching things just happen to him. He doesn't need to know how or when. He never asks why. Because he already knows the answer, and it doesn't matter anymore. He buried the hurt deep at the bottom of the ocean; he knows true happiness is just a mirage. He never cried over it. He knows he'll never forget. He doesn't even try to move on. It's always there. The best of him, he killed. Lucas E. Scott doesn't have room for _unexpected sparks_, because the flames burning high inside him are already a permanent fixture. They've slowly been consuming any and all trace of life for years. What he doesn't know is that unexpected is about to happen anyway. And, everything will change. He won't be able to stop it. Not that he'll want to.

Almost 16 years-old, 5'11'', 151lbs, single-white-male, light brown hair, blue eyes, dimples, about to be ex-high-school-junior, he doesn't belong anywhere or anyone. That, in a nutshell, is Brandon L. Walker. From the outside, he lives the life the State expects of a problem child...not more than a few months with any given foster family, gets in fights with other students, bad grades, drinks, smokes, no rules and no limits. From the inside, he lives the only life he knows...alone, carefree, independent, there are no consequences, no protection, no one to guide or save him, and no one to love him. He's a rebel; he survives against the tide, no matter what life throws at him. He used to be a very different kid, but it gets harder to remember that version of himself every day. The Walkers adopted him at birth...they were a family once, a happy, functional, caring family. A mom who helped him with homework, and a dad who taught him how to surf. Since they died in a car accident three years ago, he's been under the State's care. There were no relatives to take him in, no money left after the debts were paid. The memories he has of Walker dinners, vacations to the mountains, the smell of his mom's roast beef, the sound of his dad's laughter...they've all faded away more and more with each new foster family. He moves around so much that he cut his belongings to the bare minimum, one suitcase filled with a box of pictures and some clothes. He hasn't surfed since the funeral. That was when he first put his dad's black leather jacket on and he hasn't taken that old thing off ever since. Oh, and he writes. No one knows what or if he's any good, because he doesn't let anyone touch his notebooks, not even Skylar. She's his best friend, practically his sister. They met at City Hall the day they both entered the system. He made a promise to her once that he would protect her with his life and he doesn't ever intend to break that promise. After all, she's the only family he's got. Well, the only one who wants him anyway. And soon, they will both file for emancipation and it will be the two of them together against the world. He'll go first when he turns sixteen on August 9, in just a couple of weeks. He'll drop out of high school, get a job, an apartment...and when she's of age in a couple of months, she'll join him. Brandon L. Walker is the ultimate _unexpected spark_. He has never been ordinary...nothing in his life has ever been normal, rational or typical. He's all fire and he doesn't intend to ever burn out. Now, all he needs are two signatures setting him free. For the two people who already abandoned him at birth, scribbling their name down on a piece of paper shouldn't be that hard. He found out who they were months ago. So, he'll travel to Tree Hill first to go see the man who donated his sperm. And then, he'll go to New York to see the woman who provided the egg and the nest for nine months. That's all they've ever been to him. Some technicality. He buried the hurt deep at the bottom of the ocean; he knows true happiness is just a mirage. Tears are for the weak. He'd like to pretend he already forgot and moved on. But it's always there. They don't even know he is the best part of them, but they'll soon find out. And, everything will change. He won't be able to stop it. Not that he'll want to.


	2. Rest in Reason and Move in Passion

**Author's Note: **Thank you to all who have shown an interest in _Unexpected Sparks_. I will continue to write as long as the interest remains. We are still setting the scene in the early chapters, so there's more character introduction and background than story progression and couples interaction for now. This will change once everybody takes their place in the canvas and we get a few flashbacks out of the way explaining what happened those dreaded sixteen/seventeen years ago. You may find certain players out of character early on, but keep in mind that only monumental events and decisions, whether good or bad, whether our doing or chosen for us, are ultimately what changes us to the core. I rarely write for characters I don't like, so redemption will come to those who work for it, regardless of past mistakes. Enjoy!

* * *

Kahlil Gibran once wrote that our soul is a "_battlefield upon which reason wages war against passion_." Consciously or not, most of us pick a side every day. Do we let reason win so that we can gather enough strength to endure what's to come? Or should we pick passion so that we can say that we have truly lived? Sometimes we let the unclouded force of reason sit at the helm gripping tight on the reins. Sometimes we allow the fury of passion rage freely, blind to the possibility that it may lead us to our own destruction. Today, we build with reason. Tomorrow, we let it all come undone with passion. What we create in passion, we let unravel in reason. There are, among us, the lucky few who have learned how to prevent one from enslaving the other. Those of us, who have found within ourselves, a balance. A peacemaker. A reasonable passion. A passionate reason. Maybe, reached serenity. Harmony. Peace. Even if it's only a semblance. Even if it's just temporary. Most of us are not that lucky.

52 years-old, 5'4'', 130lbs, raven hair, brown eyes, approachable, high school prom queen and captain of cheer squad, head-chef and owner of a cafe and a nightclub, single mother of two, and grandmother of Brandon L. Walker...not that she knows him. Yet. That, in a nutshell, is Karen Roe, one of the lucky few. After numerous misfortunes, life gave her the precious gift of harmony. Peace. Maybe it was the wisdom that came with age that allows reason and passion to co-exist within her. That is not to say she doesn't make mistakes. She does. She has regrets. One regret, in particular. She disagreed, passionately, with a decision her estranged son, Lucas, made almost seventeen years ago. They fought, harsh words were exchanged; she raised her hand maybe not for the first but the final time that day. There was no taking it back. And, now there's no going back. However much she wishes it different. He calls on birthdays and holidays. Briefly. She sends him pictures of his sister Lily a few times a year. Sometimes encloses a short note asking him to come home. If he does, he never stays for more than a day or two. She can't remember how long it's been since the last time they had a meaningful conversation. Months. A year. Probably more. On this warm July evening, as she sets the dinner table for two out on her terrace, Karen wishes Lucas would just come home. Call. Even if it's to say hi.

Karen: "I think we're all set out here. Oh, bring a bottle of wine with you, will you?"

Haley: "Red or white? Who am I kidding? I'll bring both."

34 years-old, 5'3'', 125lbs, wavy hair with blond highlights, brown eyes, shy but comforting smile, tutor girl, married and pregnant in high school, singer/music producer, mother of 16 year-old James L. Scott, separated and contemplating divorce. That, in a nutshell, is Haley James Scott, aunt-in-law of Brandon L. Walker...not that she knows him. Yet. She used to be all passion. Then, her marriage fell apart. And, reason took over. It was the only way to endure what came next. A wheelchair bound, alcoholic husband. The father of her son. The love of her life. Her soulmate. Correction, possibly ex-soulmate. All she knows is that, even after eight months of sobriety and a year of official separation, she still doesn't trust her husband to be the man she fell in love with, the father their son needs him to be. Not anymore. She's afraid if she listens to passion for one moment and lets him in, he will turn her world upside down. Again. So, she lets reason reign.

Karen Roe and Haley James Scott have dinner together every Thursday night. They have had this standing weekly date since Lucas moved away sixteen years ago shortly after they graduated from high school. At first, it was a way to fill in the void of the son and the best friend they lost. To ease the pain of the absence of someone they both loved. They used to set the table for three. Maybe they thought he'd show up one Thursday to join them if they kept their date. It gradually became about so much more than that. Yes, they still talk about the past, laugh at a silly thing Lucas may have done or said. Reminisce. But, they have also become a big part of each other's support network. And now, over spinach and mushroom ravioli, Karen's own recipe of course, and bottles of wine, they give each other work advice, complain that neither has taken a vacation that summer, and talk about how they both miss their kids.

Karen: "Jamie called for Lily the other day. He sounds exhausted, but really happy."

Haley: "More exhausted than happy. But, he knew that going in. It's High Flyers. Wait, he called for Lily? She's not coming back from Italy until next week, is she?"

K: "He must have mixed up the weeks. She'll be back in 6 days, 17 hours, and...28 minutes."

H: "But who's counting? I have to say I was a bit sceptical...ok, worried, just a little bit, at first. I mean 16 and abroad on her own. But, she's doing well, isn't she?"

K: "Too well. The last postcard was from Venice...St. Mark's Square. Or as she calls it the Piazza."

H: "Well, we're going to have a hard time keeping her in Tree Hill for much longer."

Open mouth. Insert foot. Karen's biggest fear is her one remaining child to leave never to return, just like her big brother. Haley can't believe she just predicted it.

H: "Karen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

K: "It's ok. I know."

A minute of silence follows where Haley wonders if anyone can tutor her in sensitivity and Karen gathers enough courage to ask what she's been wanting to since Hayley walked in.

K: "Have you talked to him lately? Lucas?"

H: "He calls sometimes. Mainly to talk to Jamie. Doesn't say much. We haven't spoken since Jamie left for camp. Has he called you?"

Putting the fork down, Karen's hand goes for the wine glass. Sighing, she takes a sip of the Chianti and looks away towards the ocean. The silence gives Haley her answer, but Karen responds anyway.

K: "Not for weeks. It's usually Lily who calls him, but just like Jamie, she's been gone. Radio silence."

Haley stares at her plate and then out at the ocean as well. This is what bringing his name up does to them. Immediate loss of appetite, a brief journey down memory lane, the remembrance of a more pleasant yet fleeing past.

H: "You'd think we'd be used to it by now. It's hard to stop missing him."

K: "Impossible."

H: "I know what you mean. I thought he'd come back when Nathan was in trouble. But..."

K: "I get why he's like this with me. But, with you? I don't understand that."

H: "Karen, you can't blame yourself for what happened or how you reacted. It was years ago. And there's been forgiveness and healing since then. Both ways. How he is with you...and me...cold, distant, indifferent...it's not about us. It's not about anything we did or said. Or didn't say. It's about this place, people...everything reminds him of what he did, what he lost. It's too painful. He ran then and he's been running ever since. It's not your fault."

Haley notices a few tears escape those iron gates Karen usually locks her emotions behind. As she wipes them away, she gets up to go inside.

K: "Then why does it feel like it's all my fault? I need to go splash some water on my face."

Haley stands up to follow her inside, but Karen holds her hand up to stop her before she leaves.

K: "I'm ok. Stay. I'll be right back."

Seeing one of the strongest women she's ever known fall apart before her eyes and blame herself for something she had no control over, is too much for Haley. She searches inside her purse for her cell phone. As she dials, she mumbles to herself.

H: "Luke...God, sometimes I can strangle you with my bare hands. You stupid, stubborn jackass."

She doesn't realize that Lucas has already picked up the line and caught the end of her insults.

Lucas: "Jackass here. Hello to you too."

H: "Don't forget stupid and stubborn."

L: "And you called because?"

H: "It's a Thursday."

Lucas knows exactly what that means. It means that he, the stupid, stubborn jackass, should be there. At home. Having dinner with his mom and his best friend. Yet, he isn't. He doesn't have an answer. Not one that would satisfy Haley anyway.

L: "You're with mom."

H: "Would it kill you to call her? I'm not saying every night. Once a week? Once a month?"

L: "How many times do you talk to Nathan these days?"

H: "That was low. How long are you going to punish us Luke?"

L: "I'm not punishing you."

H: "Sure feels like it."

How could he tell her that he is really punishing himself? Being without the people he loves is his punishment, not theirs. The pain is his burden to bear, not theirs. And, that is his reason. However misconceived it may be. Not a drop of passion. There's very little, if any, joy in his life. He genuinely believes they are better off without him. He told them this before. More than once. They don't seem to understand.

L: "Haley, I have to go."

He doesn't. There's nothing urgent he has to do, no one waiting for him. But, since nothing he can say will make a difference, he chooses silence. Distance. Time. Haley knows this. Maybe better than he does.

H: "I'm not done."

She wants to say more. She wants to tell him he's making a big mistake. She wants to say it's time to snap out of it. Way past time. But, she hears someone aggressively knocking and ringing the doorbell. Since she can't see where Karen is, she starts to walk inside.

H: "Hold on Luke. There's someone at the door. Don't you dare hang up on me."

It's a good thing they are not having this conversation in person, because seeing each other's frustrated faces would make things so much worse at that point. While Lucas waits in silence, Haley is now in the living room and can see that Karen is about to open the door.

H: "Your mom's got it. Where was I?"

L: "Kicking my ass."

Haley walks closer to Karen to see who's at the door. She first notices a frozen Karen, but her confusion and curiosity soon turns into a similar shade of shock. Standing at the threshold, their visitor is...a teenage Lucas. Well, not exactly. Some things are different. He's wearing a grey hoodie under an old black leather jacket and a matching smug attitude. He smells of ash and smoke and they notice he's crushing under his boot a barely burning cigarette butt. But, that face, the eyes...it's Lucas. So much so that, for a split second Karen feels guilty for not having set the third plate down for dinner.

L: "Haley? Are you there?"

H: "Hold on."

Haley puts one hand over the cell phone's speaker, and the other on Karen's shoulder. The boy speaks but they are too lost in the impossibility to comprehend what he says.

Brandon: "Hello? My name is Brandon Walker. Are you ok?"

Karen is the first to snap out of the initial shock.

K: "Yes. What did you say your name was?"

B: "Brandon. Brandon Walker."

K: "Right. Would you like to come in Brandon?"

He gladly accepts the offer and as he cautiously steps inside, Haley and Karen can't stop staring at him.

H: "You see what I'm seeing?"

K: "Please tell me they haven't invented time travel yet."

Brandon can barely hear them whisper while he looks around the living room. He takes out a folder from his bag before dropping it down by the kitchen counter. He notices the pictures on the fridge. Mostly of Lily. One of Keith and Karen. And, of course, a couple of his father. But, he doesn't know who any of these people are yet. Haley remembers that she's been ignoring an impatient Luke on the phone when she hears him.

L: "Haley? Do you really need me for this?"

H: "Trust me. You're going to want to hold for this. Give me a second."

Karen and Haley walk closer to Brandon and they both hesitate to ask the next question. Thankfully, Brandon is anything but shy.

B: "So, I'm here looking for someone. One Lucas Scott. Is he here?"

K: "Lucas is not here. Do you know him?"

B: "You could say that."

H: "Why are you looking for him?"

B: "I need his signature."

K: "For what?"

B: "It'll take two seconds. Really. I'm not a cop, as you can tell. He hasn't done anything wrong. He doesn't owe me anything. I'm not here to collect a debt. So if he's hiding, you can tell him it's safe. Oh hey, cool hand, Lucky Lukie Luke...come out, come out, wherever you are!"

K: "Why would he be hiding?"

B: "Look lady, I don't know. Why does anyone ever hide? He could be a thief or a murderer for all I know. Again, I just need his signature."

K: "What do you need his signature for?"

Brandon sighs and looks around waiting for Lucas to appear. When he doesn't get what he wants, he hands Karen the folder he's been holding. She takes out the paperwork and can't hide her confusion when she reads the title.

K: "Petition for emancipation. I don't understand. Why...how? Why would you need..."

Haley is a bit quicker in guessing the implication, but it doesn't mean she finds it any easier to believe.

H: "Oh my God."

Brandon snaps his fingers and winks at Haley.

B: "Bingo. I'm here for daddy. So, is he here or what?"

While Karen is still confused over what she's hearing, Haley's eyes widen more and more with each word.

K: "What are you talking about?"

Obviously not getting anywhere with these two before him, Brandon's visibly getting annoyed.

B: "Ah, man. He's either here or not. Why do I have to explain myself to you? Who are you?"

And, that is all the self-righteous behavior from this stranger Karen can take. With anger taking over her face, she almost yells.

K: "I'm his mother. Lucas is my son. Who are you?"

B: "Oh, hi grandma."

Leaving Brandon and Karen alone staring at each other in the kitchen, Haley takes a few steps away into the living room and turns her attention back on the phone.

H: "You need to come here. Right now."

L: "Is it mom? Is she ok?"

H: "No, no, no. It's not like that. Just get in your car and drive. Now. I've never been more serious in my entire life. Just get here. Do you hear me?"

L: "Haley, what is happening?"

H: "Just shut up and drive. Now. I swear, on my one son's life, if you're not here by the morning, I will come down there myself and drag you by the hair. I'm not kidding."

Hoping that she got through to Lucas, Haley quickly hangs up. She's desperately needed in the kitchen. As a referee. A peacemaker. A buffer. This kid is smug, rude, blunt. Maybe it's all pretend. Maybe this superiority, this arrogance is just an act. Maybe there's something else behind his conceited manner, but whatever it is, it's not going to reveal itself that night. After all, he's clearly all passion. The contagious kind. He obeys the fury, good or bad, true or false. Not one drop of reason. When Haley returns to the kitchen, she catches them mid-conversation.

K: "...that you are Lucas's son? You must be mistaken. Do you have any proof?"

B: "Would my birth certificate do?"

H: "Do you have it with you?"

B: "It's in the folder I gave grandma."

While Karen looks through the paperwork, Haley asks the next most obvious question.

H: "Where's your mother? Who is she?"

When Brandon smiles upon hearing that question, Hayley has her answer. She would recognize those dimples anywhere. While Haley's staring at Brandon's smile, Karen finds the birth certificate.

K: "Brooke."

H: "Brooke."

K: "Call her. Now."

While Karen reads over the paperwork a few more times and Brandon waits impatiently, Haley tries Brooke's cell phone several times which all go directly to voicemail.

H: "She must have turned it off. Hold on. She gave me her work mobile for emergencies. She said it's always on. It's ringing."

Upstream the Atlantic from Tree Hill, Brooke Davis is in New York City, by the Hudson River against the City skyline to be exact. She is looking at a four-karat, pink diamond ring, in a black velvet box, on the palm of her boyfriend who's on one knee proposing. So, when her emergency work line starts ringing, it's not the most pleasant surprise.

B: "Rachel, this better be an emergency."

H: "Brooke? It's Haley. And yes, it is definitely an emergency."

B: "Haley? Are you all right? Is Jamie ok?"

H: "He's fine. Me? Well, it depends."

B: "On what?"

H: "You. "

B: "Haley, I'm in the middle of something. Could this possibly wait?"

H: "Not one more second."

B: "What is going on?"

H: "Brooke, I'm with Karen and there's someone else here."

B: "Who? Will you spit it out?"

H: "His name is Brandon Walker. He says...well he says he is your son."

After a moment, or two, of silence, Brooke has only one question.

B: "What is his middle name?"

H: "Hang on. Hey Brandon, do you have a middle name?"

B: "Lucas. My name is Brandon Lucas Walker. Say hi to mommy dearest for me."

Brooke Penelope Davis is one of the unlucky ones. Her life is ruled by confining reason. It didn't happen by chance. No, not by a long shot. She demands it that way. Every decision has a well-thought-out rationale. A crystal clear cause precedes every effect. A perfectly good explanation clarifies each action. Every step she takes implies a carefully calculated motivation. It's been almost seventeen years since the last time she allowed passion to take the reins. It led to her very own destruction. Once. She promised herself she would not let it happen twice. Tonight, she finds out you can't keep all your promises. No matter how hard you try.

"_Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows – then, let your heart say in silence, God rests in reason. And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky – then, let your heart say in awe, God moves in passion. And since you are a breath in God's sphere and a leaf in God's forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion."  
__~Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet, 1923_


	3. Transcendent Moments of Awe

"_Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world."  
__~John Milton, 17__th__ century English scholar_

We all change. For better or worse. That is a fact. Little by little, every day. In such small increments that even the people around us usually don't notice it happening. But, we do. It's growing pains. It's reacting. It's living. This incessant change that slowly moulds us into who we're meant to be. Sometimes we welcome it. Mostly, we just accept it. Because it's relentless, unstoppable. But there are those rare _transcendent moments of awe_ that bring an uncommon kind of change. A complete transformation. A permanent modification. A powerful flood. A deafening tornado. A brand new beginning that ends all that precedes it. When we look back, it's easy to identify those markers where there is a clear before and a forever-altered after. Wherever we may have been before the _transcendence_ hits becomes just a rest stop on the way to somewhere else. Whatever we may have been doing when we feel the _awe _becomes just a rehearsal for the real thing. We don't see those moments coming. But, they come just the same.

For Brooke Davis, one of those rare moments comes over the phone when she hears the name of the boy who claims to be her son. That powerful flood hits; the deafening tornado strikes. It doesn't matter that she is unprepared. It crushes and flattens everything in its way just the same. Not that anyone can tell. Her lungs absorb the flood and her heart encircles the tornado. She keeps it all contained within. But then, she's good at that. Practice makes perfect. There's been a storm permanently raging inside her for years. She has a million questions, but it all has to wait. Telling Haley that she would take the next flight to Tree Hill, she has one request before hanging up the phone.

Brooke: "Don't let him go anywhere. Please."

Apologizing to her boyfriend for the bad timing, she tells him she doesn't have an answer to his proposal.

B: "I can't explain right now, Kyle. I have to go. I'm sorry."

This is the price Kyle has always been willing to pay to be with Brooke. She can shut down, without a warning, at any time. He knows better than to demand an explanation or issue an ultimatum. Probably the only reason their relationship lasted as long as it did is because he gives her the space she needs when she asks for it. It doesn't mean he gives up on her. So, he lets her go, but not before putting the ring box inside her purse and asking her to think about his proposal.

Kyle: "You call me when you're ready. I love you."

It's a familiar sight...Brooke running away from him to God knows where this time. Yet, somehow it feels different. It is as if there is a certain finality to her goodbye, a purpose in her departure, unlike the times before. He wonders if he should go after her. But, then he remembers you don't push Brooke Davis to open up. She comes to you when she's ready. If she ever is.

On the way to her apartment, from the backseat of the taxi, Brooke calls Rachel, her right-hand at work, and her friend and confidant away from the office. The only other person who knows the whole truth. The person who helped her every step of the way all those years ago and has been with her ever since. The phone doesn't have to ring more than twice because Rachel has been expecting her call.

Rachel: "So, what's it going to be? Shall I pop the champagne or get ready to go fishing for a rebound hunk?"

Brooke: "Rachel, it's him."

R: "Please tell me you like the ring. A moron could follow my instructions. I was that specific."

B: "Stop talking about the damn ring."

R: "Geez, what's with the attitude Davis? Guess I shouldn't be surprised that happiness brings out your inner bitch."

B: "I'm going to Tree Hill. Tonight."

R: "Uhm...what? Am I getting punked? What year is this? 2005? Oh, I know. We're in the Twilight Zone."

B: "Listen to me. I'm trying to tell you something. It's him."

R: "Who are you talking about?"

B: "My son. It's him. He's in Tree Hill."

No other explanation is required. Rachel knows exactly what comes next.

R: "I'll get you a flight right away. No, we'll get you the company jet. It'll be faster. I'll call the pilot. Brooke, this is good news. It's going to be ok. Do you want me to come with you?"

B: "No, but thank you. I have to do this on my own."

The taxi takes Brooke home first to change and pack a bag; and then, straight to a private airfield in New Jersey where the pilot and the crew greet her. Within three hours of Haley's phone call, Brooke is in the air flying to her destination. She spends the flight nervous and scared, imagining what he looks like, what she'll say to him. A million scenarios run through her head keeping her awake. And, as the sun begins to rise in the restless Tree Hill sky, she's finally at Karen's doorstep. She hesitates to knock this early in the morning, but something tells her Karen must already be awake, if she ever went to bed to begin with. So, she knocks once, and the answer comes swiftly.

Brooke: "Hello, Karen."

Brooke thinks there has to be something better than a simple hello. Something more appropriate for this situation. Something like _"I'm sorry for not telling you about your grandson for sixteen years and by the way, thank you for giving him shelter last night."_ But, only that ever-so-inadequate hello comes out. It's more than what Karen can muster up. She simply stands aside and lets Brooke come inside.

The moment she crosses that threshold, Brooke is instantly transported back in time. The house looks, and feels, exactly the same. Memories of living under this very roof come flooding back. Sneaking out when Keith found her in bed with Lucas. Scrubbing the kitchen floor with a sponge. All of a sudden, she's the girl behind the red door who wasn't ready to be lost. She feels like a teenager all over again. Maybe it's fitting. Because she deserves to be grounded for what she did. And, of all the people she has been lying to, Karen is the only one who has earned the right to deliver her due punishment. And, Brandon. He gets to be judge and jury. No objections. For as long as she lives.

Brooke: "Where is he?"

Karen: "He's asleep. In Lucas's room."

Brooke looks down the hallway and sees the door to the bedroom that used to be her getaway. Her sanctuary. Now, it gives her son a safe haven, too. Her eyes return to Karen, whose silence screams louder than any words she may speak. Brooke can't take the loaded stare much longer so she looks down.

B: "I know you must have a million questions..."

But, she can't finish that sentence, because Karen's arms envelop her. She drops her handbag and returns the hug. She never knew, not until that moment, how much she has always wanted her to know the truth and offer her comfort. Just like this. No explanations required. Unspoken understanding. Maybe even amnesty. It's the exact remedy she's been searching for all this time. She thinks that she should have known that this is where she would find it. Karen parts from her only when she hears Brooke start to cry.

K: "Brooke, no tears. They don't make moments any happier than this."

Brooke nods her head with a faint smile and wipes her tears away.

K: "Come on, there's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen."

For the next hour, the two women sit in the kitchen drinking coffee and talking about Brandon. Not about the past. But, the present. Not about how it all went wrong years ago. But, how they have a chance to make it all better now. Brooke asks most of the questions. She wants to know every detail about her son. What does his voice sound like? Does he look like Lucas? Did he eat before going to bed? Has he asked about her? Where is he coming from? Does he seem happy? Karen tries to answer as best as she can.

K: "He has a bit of the signature Davis rasp in his voice."

She doesn't mention that it's probably due to the chain smoking that she prohibited inside the house. Some things are better left unsaid for now.

K: "He's got your dimples, but otherwise he looks exactly like a teenage Lucas. Oh, and he had spinach and mushroom ravioli for dinner."

She leaves out the fact that he asked for a beer to wash it down with. His request was denied, of course.

B: "I like ravioli."

Karen doesn't think liking ravioli is a genetic trait, but she smiles nonetheless.

B: "Did he ask about me?"

The honest answer is no. Not even once. But how can Karen tell Brooke that her son isn't here to meet and greet? That this visit is nothing more than a formality. And that it took her almost an hour to convince him to stay the night. That he was planning on leaving before Brooke and Lucas arrived. She bargained with him. He would stay the night, and in turn, she would get her son's signature on the petition. She lied. That can't be the best way to start building trust. But, what other choice did she have to keep him there?

K: "He was exhausted so we didn't talk very much."

B: "Exhausted? Why?"

K: "Must be the trip and the stress of actually being here."

B: "Where is he coming from?"

K: "Raleigh. He said he took the bus here."

B: "He called his parents, right? To let them know he's ok? I still can't believe they let him come here alone."

K: "I did make him call, but they didn't pick up. He said they probably haven't even noticed he's gone."

Perplexed, Brooke wonders what kind of parents not notice their kid missing for an entire day and night.

B: "He left without telling them?"

K: "You know how sometimes foster families are..."

Brooke is confused and thinks she must have heard wrong..._foster family_...that must be a mistake.

B: "Wait, what? He's not in the system. He's adopted."

K: "All I know is what he told me."

B: "I don't understand. It's not possible. I handpicked his family. I handed him to them myself. I know these people. I met them."

Karen can tell Brooke's confusion is slowly turning into anger. At whom she doesn't know. Maybe at herself. It's clear Brandon's life hasn't gone the way Brooke planned when she gave him up. Something went wrong. Neither knows what. But, Karen does have one more piece of information she's not sure how to share.

K: "Brooke, he's here because...well, he wants to be emancipated. He came to get Lucas's signature on the petition."

B: "Oh."

The confusion and anger take a backseat to disappointment. Sorrow. Maybe, rejection. What was she expecting really? A kid who's been searching high and low for his parents? A kid who's happy that his search is over? A kid waiting impatiently for a long-awaited reunion? No. This is more like it. This is what she deserves. He's here to finally free himself of the one remaining official tie that binds them. He wants them to let him go. For good, this time. This isn't a homecoming. It's a goodbye. After all, he waited sixteen years to do exactly what she did to him. It's his turn now. His right to seek his forever-altered after. His complete transformation. He's here to ask them to stop the flood, to silence the tornado within. And, that is the least she can do for him.

B: "Does Lucas know he's here?"

K: "No. He...uhm...Lucas isn't here."

B: "So, he doesn't know anything about..."

K: "Not yet. We didn't think he should find out over the phone. But, he should be here any second. He's driving from Charlotte."

B: "Karen, if you don't mind..."

K: "You should be the one to tell him. Of course, I don't mind."

B: "Thank you. Not just for this. For not asking me questions. For not being mad. For helping him when he needed it. Thank you for fixing everything."

K: "What's done is done. He's my grandson and he's here. What else was I supposed to do?"

Brooke can make a long list of things Karen could do, including yelling and throwing things at her, closing the door on her face, and never speaking to her. But she doesn't get the chance to fully express her gratitude for the understanding and acceptance that came instead. They are distracted by a clicking sound from the door. Someone is trying hard to not make too much noise while they unlock the front door from the outside. When the door finally opens, it takes Brooke a few seconds to recognize the intruder. It's Lucas. But, not her Lucas. Not how she remembers him anyway. Focused on his mother, Lucas doesn't see her at first, which gives Brooke a fleeing moment to study him.

His dirty blond hair is longer than usual and it covers almost his entire face. She never imagined he would grow a beard. It doesn't suit her Lucas. It seems it's not necessarily a conscious choice on his part. It simply grows and he just lets it. She wonders how he got that small but deep scar above his right eyebrow, closer to his hairline. Was he in an accident? Who took care of him? He's wearing brown leather boots, a pair of rumpled blue jeans and an old black T-shirt. Arms more muscular than she remembers, rough hands and a weathered face signal maybe years of manual labor. She wonders what replaced the pen to give him those calluses on his hands. There's a ruggedness, a sharpness to his manner, to the way he talks. Even when he just stands there, he looks battered by the years. Like he carries the weight of something heavy, maybe the whole world, on his shoulders. Like he's been through more than his share of pain and suffering for one lifetime. He is unkempt. Uneven. Harsh. When he finally notices she's there, she sees that even her favourite blue eyes look at her differently. Yes, she expected the lines; aging does that to us all. But it's more than that. There used to be days she thought she could stare into his eyes forever, imagining herself swimming in the cool blue waters of a lake. The stillness used to call for her. The passion welcomed her making her its willing prisoner. Now, it seems his inner uproar has frozen that lake. And, passion relinquished its throne to exhaustion. Maybe change doesn't always mean growth, forward movement. No, this isn't her Lucas. Not the image she has retained of him anyway. But, for one split second when he runs his fingers through his hair, her Lucas flashes before her eyes. And she can't help but smile at the unchanged memory of him. It doesn't last very long. Reality always kicks in.

Lucas: "Brooke? What are you doing here?"

Brooke puts down her coffee cup and gets up from her chair. She walks around the kitchen counter and stops when she's close enough to almost touch him. A part of her wants to reach out and hug him. Pretend the last seventeen years never happened. But she stands her ground.

B: "Hi."

L: "Hi."

They just stand there, staring at each other...he's in shock, and she's trying to find the right words for what comes next. Thankfully, Karen breaks the silence.

K: "Brooke just got here. You two need to talk. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

Karen looks back one last time before she leaves them alone. Her only wish is that they be kind to each other. Because the road ahead will be that much longer and tougher if they can't find a way to travel together.

L: "What...how did you...why are you..."

B: "I will answer all your questions. But, not here. Let's go out to the terrace. Come on."

Still in shock, Lucas watches her leave for a moment before he follows her. When he reaches the terrace, he sees that she's tightly gripping the railing with both hands, as if she needs the support to remain standing. He takes his time walking up to her so he can soak up the fact that she's actually there with him. He's imagined this day for years. Where they'd meet, what he'd say, how she'd look. He never would have guessed it would happen in his mother's kitchen. And, he sure didn't expect it to be today.

She's still as beautiful as she was the first day he met her. Her wavy, shoulder-length, auburn hair is pulled back but a few unruly strands encircle her face. She's wearing a tight, dark green, knee-length dress with short sleeves. Her black belt matches the high heels. There's a formality, a seriousness to her stand. From head to toe, it's like she's following the strict rules of a ritual. Everything in order. Nothing out of place. He wonders if there's anyone in her life who makes her want to break the rules. He wishes she was wearing red and her hair was loose in the gentle wind. Even after all these years, he can still draw her face blindfolded with perfect accuracy. He used to be so head over heels in love with her that he committed to memory every curve, every line, and every feature. Some things are the same...the smooth, porcelain skin, those high cheek bones, the curved nose, the slightly arched eyebrows. Others are missing...her cherry red lipstick, those dimples that melted him every time she smiled. Something tells him she doesn't smile too often anymore. And, she looks like she retired the red lipstick, maybe along with much of her usual make-up. He always thought she looked best without it anyway. Brooke Davis is born of change; this isn't the first time she reinvented herself. Standing still has never been her God; she has never bowed down before continuity. He knows better than to expect the same teenage girl. But he has always hoped that at least he would see the same thrill, laughter and mischief in her pretty hazel eyes. It seems all that's left is a gravely cold and painstakingly stern look that pierces straight through without any emotion. No, this isn't his Brooke. Not in the way he remembers her anyway. But, for one split second when she brushes away a few strands of hair the wind blows over, his Brooke flashes before his eyes. And he can't help but smile at the unchanged memory of her. It doesn't last very long. Reality always kicks in.

B: "You must be wondering why I am here after all these years. I wouldn't have come if I didn't have a good reason. There's something I have to tell you. And, I need you to not interrupt me. Will you listen?"

She refuses to look at him while she makes her request. Instead, she's staring out into the ocean, the sky, or maybe even into nothing but the emptiness.

L: "Yes, I'll listen."

B: "Haley called me last night to tell me about a sixteen your old boy who showed up here looking for you. He's the reason I'm here. He's the reason she asked you to come here, too. His name is Brandon Lucas Walker, and he's our son."

It's the first time Brooke looks at him since they left the kitchen. And what she sees is a puzzled, bewildered man lost in silent confusion and disbelief. Maybe even panic. She loosens her grip on the railing and turns around to face him.

B: "It's not a lie. It's not some cruel joke. And, it's not a mistake. It's God's honest truth. In flesh and blood. Asleep. In your old room. Our son is here."

L: "Our son? Here?"

B: "Yes."

Unable to stand still, Lucas starts pacing back and forth on the terrace. With one hand on his forehead, holding up his now too heavy head, he tries to figure out where to start. But Brooke has other plans, so she grabs him by the arms with both hands and looks straight into his eyes.

B: "Listen to me. I know you have questions. I know most of this doesn't make sense. But you have to get over it. All of it. Not for me. But for him. Whatever you are feeling right now...shock, anger, regret, guilt, disappointment? I don't care. Snap out of it. Suck it up. Stow it. We have more important things to deal with. He needs us. We let him down once. I don't intend to do it again. Do you?"

The answer comes quick and firm with such force that yanks his arms away from her hands.

L: "No."

When he immediately starts to walk away, Brooke calls after him.

B: "Where are you going?"

Lucas stops halfway down and turns around.

L: "Where do you think? To see him. But just so you know, you and I...we're not done here."

And, he leaves Brooke behind watching him walk inside and out of sight.

Some people believe that life is just a series of challenges. Sometimes, when we least expect it, we are faced with our biggest test of courage. A trial for our willingness to change. To adapt. To accept. Our very own _transcendent moment of awe_. There's no use in pretending that nothing has happened. We can't ask for more time because we're not ready. Change waits for no one. Looking back offers no relief. Sometimes we only get one single second to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.

Lucas Scott is having one of those rare moments. He's standing outside of his old room trying to gather enough strength to knock on the door behind which lies his son. It doesn't matter that he is unprepared. He didn't see this moment coming. But it came just the same. Before he accepts the challenge, he takes one last look out onto the terrace, to the mother of his son. He can't help but remember the first time he met her. Naked. In the backseat of his car. A long time ago, Brooke Davis was his very first _transcendent moment of awe_.

_Brooke: "Did you feel it change?"  
__Lucas: "Feel what change?"  
__Brooke: "Everything. I mean, how many moments in life can you point to and say that's when it all changed? You just had one."_


	4. A Tide in the Affairs of Men

"_There is a tide in the affairs of men. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. But omitted, and the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and miseries."  
__~William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, 1599_

Some people believe life places them at one crossroads after another. It's not the constant requirement to choose the right path that makes us who we are. That particular challenge is inevitable. Universal. What really matters is what we do once on the chosen path. Right or wrong. Long or short. Smooth or bumpy. Do we ever learn to interpret the signs correctly? Can we adapt so we don't repeat our failures? Do we liberate free will so we can ride the high _tide _changing our fortune? Or, do we submit to our fate passively accepting the outcome? Never experiencing anything beyond the dreaded _shallows_ where we are doomed to remain forever. Some of us are fortunate enough to recognize when fate offers us an opportunity. Or maybe a warning to prevent tragedy. Even fewer of us are bold enough to take advantage of it. Achieve that much desired outcome. Change our destiny. That is if we are able to break in time those chains around our feet tying us to the _shallows_.

Brandon Walker is unaware that fate has just offered him such an opportunity. He thinks he only needs to stick it out for another hour or two before he's free to leave. He struck a deal with a stranger who happens to be his grandmother. He stays one night at her house, and in turn, she makes sure he gets what he came to this godforsaken town to begin with. The signature. He knows she will break their deal. No one keeps their promises. Somehow, he trusts her. He second-guessed his decision while she led him down the hall to a bedroom where she said he could spend the night. When she mentioned it used to be his father's room, he knew that it was a mistake. A big mistake. But, a deal is a deal. Brandon Walker does not go back on his word. And, for some reason, he could tell it meant so much to this woman. He met her only a couple of hours ago but, strangely enough, he couldn't get himself to let her down. So, he agreed.

Sleep doesn't come easy to him. Not in someone else's bed. Not since three years ago when the State told him he couldn't sleep in his own bed anymore. So now, he grabs a pillow and a blanket off the bed and makes his own spot on the floor. He tosses and turns for a few hours but it doesn't work. He is not claustrophobic. Not that he knows. But it feels like the walls are closing in on him. He doesn't believe in the supernatural. There are no monsters under the bed or ghosts in the walls. Yet, it feels like he can feel his presence. Even hear him. The real owner of this room. And, it keeps him wide awake. So, he gets up, opens the window and lights a cigarette. He calls Skylar, the only person who can talk him off the ledge. But it's 3am and she doesn't pick up her cell. He knows she's not asleep. The noise where she is or the poison in her bloodstream must be keeping her from even noticing he's calling. He wishes he could be where she is instead of this prison he voluntarily committed himself to. Because, he is the only person who can talk her off that very same ledge.

He tries to push the walls back and scare the ghosts away. He fails. Miserably. No rest for the wicked. He decides to do the next best thing. Brandon Walker never much cared for the _shallows_. He doesn't sit by while fate has her way with him. He is the master of the _tide_.So, he sets out to find out as much as possible about this ghost. Then, he can have leverage to force his silence. He spends the rest of the night going through Lucas's room. His closets, drawers, desk, under his bed. No stone unturned. He looks through his high-school yearbook. He finds Peyton's letters and drawings in a box at the back of his closet. A basketball under the bed. An empty prescription bottle and a red feather inside a small wooden box in his desk drawer. He doesn't even realize that the sun is rising when he starts going through his books. Grabbing one off the high shelf, he walks over to the window. When he hears a knock on the door, he doesn't think twice who it could be. The night is over, so Karen must have come to break their deal. He expected it. He wishes she would get it over with quick.

Brandon (Br): "Yeah. Come in."

Unbeknownst to him, outside his door is his father, standing at his very own crossroads. Nervous. Shaky. Uneasy. The undeniable force of the high _tide _pushes his heart to race a mile a second. The miserable darkness of the _shallows _ties his stomach in knots. And, when Lucas finally opens the door and sees his son for the first time, everything else fades away. The race halts. The knots are untied. Even his constant companion, the flames within him, disappears. Like something, someone, his son, extinguishes them. Without even trying.

What he sees is a young man wearing a tight, white T-shirt and dark jeans. He's sitting by the window with one boot on the sill. An arm over the bended knee, he's holding in his right hand a book folded in half. By the way the room smells, Lucas can tell that the lit cigarette between his lips isn't his first. He notices that there's a pillow and a blanket on the floor, where he must have spent the night. If he slept at all. The room is in disarray. Like a tornado whipped through the middle. He clearly has gone through his closet and desk. His clothes, papers, pictures, books are all over the place. His son hasn't even bothered to look up at him once since he entered the room. With his one free hand, Brandon reaches for the cigarette and exhales the smoke out the open window. That's when he finally turns around to look at his visitor. It's a disinterested look that only lasts a second. Long enough to tell him the figure is not Karen.

Br: "Hey man. S'up?"

The question is more of the rhetoric kind. No response required. The boy really couldn't care less. He puts the cigarette back between his lips, and quickly returns to reading the book. Lucas wonders if he's invisible all of a sudden. It feels like he could be ten feet tall or as wide as the room itself, but it wouldn't make a difference. Brandon still could not be bothered to acknowledge his presence.

Lucas: "Put it out."

The words come out weaker than Lucas wishes. Their effect is even feebler; the cigarette remains in his mouth. Without looking up, he just keeps reading.

Br: "What?"

L: "I said put it out."

This time, his voice is louder. Stern. Even somewhat commanding. Brandon finally looks up and his hand reaches for the cigarette. But, it's not to obey the order. It's more out of annoyance. Out of curiosity over who this guy is and what he wants. With a bit of a smirk, he challenges the intruder.

Br: "Grandma sent you? Here to keep an eye on the delinquent? Enforce the house rules?"

Hearing him refer to Karen as _grandma_ brings the flames rushing back. They spread comfortably into their familiar surroundings within him once again. The kid doesn't back down. He has no plans to comply. He's simply amused by the fact that someone is daring to force him to do something he doesn't want to do. The fire within gives Lucas the courage to repeat his request with a more severe and strict tone that demands submission.

L: "The cigarette. Put it out."

Br: "This thing? As you wish."

He drops the cigarette on the window sill and puts it out under the weight of his boot. The wood makes a sharp burning sound before he flicks the butt out the open window.

Br: "Shit...that's going to leave a mark. My bad. Now go tell the good cop you did as you were told."

He motions with the back of his hand for Lucas to get out and turns his attention back on the book. Taking a pen from behind his ear, he scribbles something on the side of the page he's been reading. Lucas shakes his head and looks down briefly before issuing another warning.

L: "You shouldn't have done that."

Brandon is visibly irritated that this man just won't leave him alone. But, a part of him respects his persistence. It's been years since anyone spoke to him like this. Three years to be exact. Whenever he messed up, his father used to have the same harsh, yet caring tone to his voice. He gets even more frustrated for even thinking that this stranger sounds like his father. So, he keeps writing on the page.

Br: "Well, someone's gotta correct this idiot's annotations. What's it to you?"

Lucas had been referring to the burn damage on the window sill, but he realizes Brandon must be reading one of his books.

L: "This idiot doesn't like people writing over his notes."

Perplexed, Brandon is confused at first. _This idiot_…_his notes_…he holds the book at arm's length for a second. Apparently it belongs to this man. It dawns on him that if the book is his, it can only mean one thing. He's the monster under the bed. The ghost in the walls. The voice that kept him awake all night. The sperm donor he's been looking for. Standing just a few feet out of reach. The _tide _rises high within him, jumbling everything. His organs shuffled around his ribcage, his heart stopped from pumping blood, his veins cluttered up in dead ends. Not that anyone can tell. Brandon Walker never stays too long in the _shallows_.Not if he has anything to say about it. So, he rises over the _tide _once again. Pushing aside the chaos inside, he puts on a smile. The smile that has helped him camouflage the disorder many times over the years. Looking pompous is better than looking hurt. You never let them see you care. Turning his attention over to Lucas, he puts the book down on the window sill and the pen back behind his ear.

Br: "Well, well...what do we have here? Could you be the infamous Lucas Scott? Pops?"

Lucas cringes as Brandon laughs and rubs his hands together.

Br: "What a treat! If I had known, I would have tidied up the place. You don't mind, do you? I got a little carried away."

He stands up and takes a few steps towards Lucas who hasn't moved an inch since he walked through the door. He bends his knees a little and tilts his head to the right. Squinting his eyes, he tries to get a closer look.

Br: "Man, what the hell happened to you? Wait, you don't live holed up in some cave, do you? I gotta say, this look...not your best."

Before Lucas can say anything, his attention shifts to the woman who arrives at the door. He walks around Lucas to get close enough to stand right before her. Looking straight into her hazel eyes, he folds his arms firmly across his chest. The sight of a teenage Lucas…her Lucas…no, her son…raises the _tide _high enough to freeze Brooke. No one has invented words for a moment like this. Not one sound that can articulate her affection. Excruciating pain. Not one movement that can act out her yearning. Years of longing. Not one sentiment that can express her regret. Infinite remorse. There's a coldness, a cruelty to his stand. Like he sneaked into the lair of his enemy fully loaded to battle his nemesis. But, when have they become adversaries? She wants to take him into her arms and tell him they are on the same side. They are family. But, she can't move. Maybe it's the chains that condemn her to the _shallows_. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. After all, no one has invented words for a moment like this. It seems Brandon disagrees.

Br: "You must be his better half. Brooke Davis. Now, you still look hot. Sunday best for when you finally meet the son you never wanted? You couldn't have given pops a few style tips?"

L: "You do not talk to your mother like that."

Brooke is startled by the severity in Lucas's voice. Brandon doesn't even flinch. Leaning his head back, he simply laughs at the suggestion. That's when Brooke sees the familiar dimples for the first time and a wave of warmth encircles her heart. Turning around to face Lucas, Brandon ridicules the request.

Br: "That's a joke, right?"

Brooke thinks she deserves anything her son dishes out. Accusations. Insults. She's willing to take it all. As long as it keeps him talking to her. Words are better than silence. Even if they are spiteful.

B: "It's ok."

L: "No, it's not."

Br: "Have I been rude? Am I grounded? What will I ever do to make it up to you?"

Sarcasm isn't lost on either Brooke or Lucas. They both know that if there's someone with any making up to do in that room, it's them. Not him. But, it's also clear that this condescending disdain isn't helping anyone.

L: "That's enough out of you."

Br: "Oh, but I just got started. Can you feel it? The three of us...we're going to get along just fine."

Lucas meets Brooke's eyes and sees the same helplessness. Neither knows what to do with the contempt. How to react to the malice or if they can ever turn it into peace. Maybe even just a semblance of a temporary truce. They both know this is their doing. All their fault. Here before them is the son that should have grown up with their love and protection. Instead, he is a virtual stranger. Cold-hearted. Unyielding. Unfeeling. And, the shots keep coming.

Br: "Or is it the four of us? I mean where is the blonde, man? I found her stuff in your closet. Oh, and the yearbook. Very enlightening. There's not one picture of you two together. But you and the blonde are practically attached at the hip. Must be high school sweethearts. The Juliet to your Romeo. Not like this one here. You know, the one night stand you couldn't wait to get rid of. Or did she leave you when yours truly happened? What's her name? Uhm...Penny? No, Peggy? Or was it Patty?"

Suddenly, Brooke's head feels too heavy to hold up, so she drops her chin toward her chest. One single tear escapes before she can close her eyes shut. She volunteers the answer.

B: "Peyton."

Br: "Bingo. Oh, sweetie, don't cry. It still hurts, huh?"

Brooke just takes it believing this is her due punishment. But, this vindictive attitude, the vicious words are more than Lucas is prepared to allow. A few swift steps bring him close enough to grab Brandon by the arm and turn him around to face him. Looking straight into his son's eyes, he reminds him that there are certain uncompromising boundaries in life that even he has to accept.

L: "Listen to me, you punk. You need to keep your mouth shut about things you don't know. I get it. We all get it. Life sucks. Everything's messed up. You got screwed. You're hurt. Angry. You have every right to lash out at the world. At us. But, I will not have you disrespecting Brooke. Not under this roof. You hear me?"

Taken aback, Brandon is silent. But it only takes him a moment to recompose himself. He yanks his arm away from Lucas's grip and takes a few steps back. Brooke can't decide if she's grateful for Lucas standing up for her or mad at him for possibly pushing their son away forever.

Br: "Whatever."

He grabs his sweater off the floor and shoves it into his backpack. He throws the rest of his belongings into the bag...a notebook, his cell phone and wallet. Brooke feels her heart drop when it becomes clear he's getting ready to leave. When he takes his leather jacket off the chair, she tries to find something, anything, to say to keep him there.

B: "Are you hungry? I can make you some breakfast."

Breakfast with the family…the idea stops Brandon for a moment. Mom making pancakes, dad pouring the juice. They sit around the table talking about his grades. Monday night football. Next weekend's surf trip. Summer camp. Mom packs his lunch, and dad drives him to school. A normal family. He had that once. This, here, with these two…that's not it. He scoffs at the idea.

Br: "I'll pass. Gotta go."

He puts the jacket on, throws the bag over his shoulder and hurriedly walks out the room. He doesn't look back. Not even once. No goodbye. Brooke and Lucas just stand there in disbelief that they are losing him. Again. Staring at each other, they both know that they messed up. Again. How could they allow him to walk out of their lives? Again. Breaking the stare, Brooke is the first to decide she won't let it happen. Running towards the front door, she calls for him. And, it's her voice that stops Brandon halfway out the door. Lucas is right behind her. Looking out the open door to the road ahead, Brandon just listens.

B: "Don't go. Please. Look, I know we started off on the wrong foot here. Maybe we can rewind? Start over? You must have questions. Things you want explained. I can do that. I want to do that. We can just talk. No expectations. Please stay."

L: "You were curious enough to ransack my room, go through my belongings. Now that you have me, you have us, here, you're going to take off? Just like that?"

Br: "Yeah, well, I intended to leave before you got here. This hell of a family reunion was never the plan."

B: "Who says we can't change the plan?"

That's when Brandon turns around to face them, but he keeps the door open with one hand.

Br: "Let's get one thing straight. I didn't come here to make friends. I'm not here to get to know you. I already have a mom and a dad, and you're nothing like them. We're not braiding each other's hair. You're not reading me a bedtime story. We're not playing catch. There are no hugs, here. No kisses. I'm not here to bond with you. God, a cavity search would be more fun."

Lucas is desperate to change his mind.

L: "There has to be something we can do for you. Something you want from us."

Remembering the reason he came to Tree Hill, Brandon's eyes search for the folder he gave Karen the previous night. The one containing the paperwork for his emancipation. He sees it on the kitchen counter.

Br: "Actually, there is one thing. Your signature. I don't want anything else from either of you."

He walks over to the kitchen counter and takes out the petition from inside the folder. He slides the paperwork over to them and places the pen from behind his ear on top of the page with the signature lines.

Br: "Here's a pen. Take it and sign the damn paper. So, I can get the hell back to my life."

Brooke closes her eyes and looks down. She knows what this means. What her signature will do. Unaware, Lucas reaches for the paperwork and reads the title. He turns to Brooke in confusion.

L: "Petition for emancipation? Did you know about this?"

B: "Karen told me just before you walked in."

Lucas turns to Brandon.

L: "I don't understand. Why?"

Br: "Why do you care?"

L: "Do you want me to sign it or not?"

Sighing slowly, Brandon looks away. Out the window, at the ocean, anywhere but at them. The last thing he wants to do is to explain to them how he ended up here. How one accident took away everything he knew. Everyone he loved. Or the hell he's been living in for the past three years. They don't deserve to know anything about his life. The reasons are his only. His motivations are not to be shared. Not with these two. Why he does what he does. Why he wants what he wants. Why he is the way he is. They haven't earned the right to know him. He owes them no explanations. No answers. So, he remains silent.

Brooke tries hard to hold back her tears and with a lump in her throat, prepares to ask the question she's been dreading since she heard about the emancipation.

B: "Karen said you're in foster care. What happened to the couple who adopted you? The Walkers?"

At the mention of his parents' name, Brandon looks at her right away. What Brooke sees is a brutal, implacable stare. Like he's telling her, without words, that she has no right to interrogate him. Especially not about his adoption. But, she can't help him if she doesn't know what went wrong. So, she pushes one more time.

B: "I met them...the day you were born. They were wonderful people. And, they loved you. So much. What happened, Brandon?"

Br: "Does it matter? They're not around anymore."

_Not around anymore_…Brooke wonders what that means. Did they not want him? Could they not take care of him? Why didn't they contact her? Why didn't the adoption agency tell her? She has so many questions, but it's clear this is all Brandon's willing to reveal. When she's too weak to continue, Lucas takes over.

L: "So you want our permission to be emancipated? You no longer want to be under State's care?"

Br: "Now you're getting it. Will you sign or what?"

Lucas isn't new to the concept. His brother, Nathan, was granted emancipation from his parents when he was Brandon's age. What he doesn't understand is how his son ended up in that same situation. How he couldn't stop it. His son with his own Dan and Deb as parents, believing he's better off alone. How he stands before him now, after all these years, asking him to cut all ties. He wants to scream _"No!"_ but holds himself back.

L: "You're only sixteen. How are you supposed to take care of yourself? We just got you back. And, now you want us to let you go?"

Br: "I hate to break it to you man, but you already let me go sixteen years ago. You can't miss something you never had to begin with."

B: "You couldn't be more wrong."

It just comes out. Brooke doesn't have to think about it. Natural. Automatic. The only meaningful reaction is the admission that she misses him. That she's missed him all these years. It's the first real sign of emotion that she lets herself express. The only weakness she lets them see. The honest truth. There, out in the open. It makes her feel lighter. Just a little bit. But, it scares Brandon. So much so that he shuts down again.

Br: "You know what? Forget it. I don't need your permission. This is happening whether you like it or not. With or without your signatures. The only reason I'm here is because it will be quicker and less painful for me in court if you sign the damn paper. I can do it without your help. Sixteen years of practice. I've gotten pretty damn good at it."

He takes the petition and the folder away from Lucas and grabs his bag off the floor. He starts to leave, but stops halfway. It's his turn to show weakness. Emotion. A little bit of his truth.

Br: "The funny thing is...I should have expected this. You've never done anything for me in my entire life. Not one thing. I shouldn't be surprised that you would refuse to do the only thing I ask of you now. The only thing I truly want. It's my fault really. I should have never come here."

Neither Brooke nor Lucas has ever known that words could make them bleed like this. Cut them wide open. _You've never done anything for me in my entire life. _Like a thousand sharp knives aimed straight at their hearts. No shield. They inhale and the cruel letters stick to their lungs one by one. _I should have never come here. _No mercy. Silence provides no relief. Like a hundred hellhounds surrounding their prey. Ready to hunt. No escape. Letting Brandon down one more time, like this, is not an option. Brooke has no choice but to give him what he wants. The only thing he has ever asked of them_._

B: "Wait. I'll sign."

Surprised and unsure if he should believe her, Brandon slowly walks back into the kitchen and puts the petition on the counter and the pen right next to it. Without hesitation, Brooke takes the pen and signs. When she's done, she turns to Lucas and holds the pen out for him. This isn't the first time they needed no words to communicate. His eyes tell her this is the last thing he wants to do. Her stare tells him that he has to do it nonetheless. So, he takes the pen from her and looks down at the line where he's supposed to sign. He takes one more look at Brandon to see if his eyes reveal a flicker of doubt or even a faint desire for him to stop, but all he sees is impatient determination. So, he signs. Quick and final. Done. Released, just like that. Brandon takes the petition from them and stares at their signatures for a moment. He wonders why success doesn't feel any better. Shouldn't he be happy? Over the moon, really. He got exactly what he came here for. Or did he? All he knows is that he needs to get out of this house. So, he throws the folder into his bag and starts to walk out.

L: "Stop. Wait here. Just for a second. Please."

Lucas runs down the hallway leaving Brandon frustrated that his departure is delayed once again, and Brooke curious if he could possibly have a plan to stop their son from leaving. When he comes back a few seconds later, he holds out a book for Brandon to take.

L: "I want you to have it."

Brandon looks first at the book, and then up at Lucas. Seeing his hesitation, Lucas encourages him.

L: "Your grandmother gave that to me when I was your age. If you take it, it becomes yours. That way, you can write all over my idiotic comments."

Brandon sees that it's the book he had been reading earlier, William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. He hesitantly takes it and folds it in two. While putting it in his back pocket, he quotes Brutus. Maybe as a thank-you for the gift. Or in his own way, to say goodbye.

Br: "_We must take the current when it serves. Or lose the ventures before us._"

Then, he sees Karen join them in the kitchen. She stands a few feet behind Lucas, not wanting to interrupt the moment. Brandon takes a step to his left so he can look directly at her.

Br: "I'm sorry. And, thank you."

It's a plain apology. Effortless. Not only for how he behaved the night before. Not only for having to leave her now. But also, for how everything turned out. It's a simple thank you. Succinct. Not only for the hospitality, the food, the bed. Not only for not demanding answers to the tough questions. But also, for keeping her promise to deliver the signatures. Somehow, Karen knows all this. And with her response of a smile and a nod, Brandon leaves. Out the same door he walked in the night before. In a flash. Like he was never there. Like it was just a dream. Gone. Out riding the next _tide_, wherever the current may take him. Leaving everyone else behind to their fate in the _shallows_.

Crushed under the weight of the decision they made at yet another crossroads, Brooke and Lucas stare into the empty space their son used to occupy. Today, fate presented them with the opportunity to correct a long-ago mistake. Make a different choice. Get off the wrong path. Change their destiny. Standing in silence now, neither knows whether they should run after him or respect his wishes. Whether they picked the right path or even if they have the strength to stay on it. After all, that's what the chains around our feet are meant to do...to keep us tied to our misery wondering what lies beyond the closed door before us. It's Brooke who suffers quietly, tugging at the proverbial chains. Her tears are futile. Lucas, on the other hand, has never been good at suppressing the anguish. No use in trying to conceal the torment. Turning to face Brooke, he is the first to break the dreadful stare and the agonizing silence.

L: "You and I...now, we talk."


	5. Heavy for the Vintage

**Author's Note: **Hello fellow readers. My story traffic count has been frozen for over a week, so I have a silly request. If you are still reading this story and enjoying it, could you please give me a shout? A quick PM or review telling me how much this pathetic roll call sucks would do. If you'd like, you can even call me Peyton. Some of you know exactly what profanity that name stands for in my imagination. I have a million story ideas and I want to make sure I'm not wasting my time on one not many of you are reading anymore. Depending on the feedback, this may end up being the last chapter, so I thought I'd shed some light into how the adoption came to be. This one gives away more than I wanted to so early in the storyline, but considering it may be the end, it's the bare minimum that must be revealed. Enjoy! Oh, and for Leni, who was wondering how old I am, that number would be 25.

* * *

In his arguably the most renowned novel, the Pulitzer prize winner _The Grapes of Wrath_, John Steinbeck writes of the struggles of men. _"In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage."_ The idea that rage grows high within our spirit when anything, anyone, gets in the way of our needs and desires...fury that all our trials fail...anger that our grievous faults and mistakes cost us dearly. All that rage, fury, and anger, our very own _grapes of wrath_, are stored in piles growing heavier by the day, deep in our soul, in our very own _vintage_. The struggle is common. The _wrath_, inevitable. The weight crushes all our souls. Over the things we cannot change, the uselessness of hindsight. The past that cannot be re-written. The words that cannot be unspoken. Over a life that tests us at every turn. Inexperience is irrelevant. Every action and every consequence haunt us regardless. Most of us grow up too fast thanks to the _heavy vintage_. Some of us are aware of our strengths as well as our weaknesses. So, we find a way to help compassion and acceptance overcome the _wrath._ Even turn it into love, someday. Others are trapped in a gray and bleak time of confusion. Bitter history becomes our sweet home. Minds and hearts in conflict, both enslaved by the lingering memories. Maybe unwillingly, we feed the fury within. So much so that we end up throwing away the key to the _vintage_ trapping ourselves forever in _wrath_. Somehow, we become the greatest threat to our very own existence. And, our only chance of survival.

Neither Lucas Scott nor Brooke Davis is a stranger to _wrath_. They have both called home the intimately familiar surroundings of the _heavy vintage_. Maybe even felt comfortable under the weight of it all at one time or another. The difference between these two broken people is that for one, a miracle transformed the _wrath_ into love. Even if it didn't last very long. While the other one has been trapped in the _vintage _for years. No way out. And, the irony is that the _wrath_ is too thick for him to see that he may have just let the last remaining key slip through his fingers. So, they both stand, out on the terrace, silent. Staring out into the ocean. To the morning sun shining down on the glittering water. To the waves crashing onto shore. All so that they don't have to look at each other. All because they are both afraid that one look will unleash the _wrath_ within, the bitter history, the haunting memories. And, what good has ever come out of rehashing the past? Brooke knows she can't escape what comes next. So, she calmly and quickly rips off the band-aid.

Brooke: "You wanted to talk. So, talk."

Lucas: "I honestly don't know where to start. What the hell happened just now?"

B: "Exactly which part did you miss? Our son showing up? Telling us that he basically hates us? Signing his emancipation papers? Or letting him go? Which part are you not so clear on Lucas? Because all of that happened just now."

L: "None of it. I don't get any of this, Brooke. Explain to me how you let this happen."

Brooke does a double take on "_explain to me," _because she can't believe Lucas would think he has the right to ask her for an explanation. When she hears _"how you let this happen," _it's past time for her to even try to block the fury.

B: "How _I_ let this happen? Me, alone, all by myself, caused all this? Oh, you have some nerve standing there demanding an explanation. If you think I owe you anything..."

L: "You've been gone for almost seventeen years. I was fine, you know. I was fine without you. And you show up, and in less than an hour, you manage to turn my life upside down. Again. How do you do that?"

B: "I can't believe you're blaming me for this. The last thing I've ever wanted is to be here, in this town, this house, with you, being interrogated about a past that already haunts me every second of every day. I don't need you asking me questions. You think I'd be here if I had the damn answers?"

Realizing they've both been yelling at each other, Brooke takes a step back and turns her back to him. Getting in a screaming match with Lucas. The one thing she had promised herself she wouldn't do when she came here. She gets even angrier when she realizes that no one has managed to boil her blood like he just did so effortlessly, not once in all these years.

B: "And by the way, I'm fine without you, too. Just peachy."

L: "We're getting nowhere like this."

B: "Arrogant, self-absorbed ass."

She thinks she muttered the words under her breath, but Lucas hears her anyway.

L: "Careful with that mirror."

They both take a deep breath and sigh. Brooke turns to face him, crosses her arms over her chest, and looks at him clearly annoyed that he basically called her an arrogant, self-absorbed ass. Yes, she said it first, but still. Lucas breaks her stare and with one hand rubbing the back of his neck, he shakes his head. All this shouting is certainly not how he imagined his first real conversation with Brooke would go. Raised voice. Insults he doesn't even mean. No one has managed to bring out the fury in him like she just did so easily, not once in all these years.

B: "I'm so glad we had this talk."

Brooke slowly walks over to the edge of the terrace and grabbing the railing with both hands, she looks out into the ocean again. After a few minutes of silence, Lucas walks closer and leans his back against the railing. Brooke can feel it coming. The bitter history she ran away from. The unchangeable past she locked away. The painful words she left behind. The excruciating looks she erased years ago. Or she thought she did. Down the memory lane they will go, because she can feel there's no stopping Lucas.

Lucas: "Do you remember the day you told me you were pregnant?"

Brooke: "Remember? I replayed it a million times in my head."

L: "Nathan and Haley's wedding. We had that fight about the stupid kiss."

B: "Then, the accident happened. We were outside the hospital. You were a mess...physically and mentally."

L: "Pulling Cooper out of the water, finding Nathan and Rachel...none of that measured up to what you told me that day."

**_***  
_****_16 Years and 7 Months Ago, Outside the Hospital, Tree Hill_**

Lucas: "I tried to call you."

Brooke: "Yeah, I know. I came as soon as I got the voicemail. I'm glad you're ok."

L: "Listen. After you left the reception, I found your purse and...it had a pregnancy test in it."

Seeing how nervous and shaky he is, Brooke tries to explain it away.

B: "We all got the same purse as wedding gifts."

But, she can tell Lucas doesn't believe her, because something tells him that's not the whole story.

L: "It had that perfume you wear."

It's clear he's not giving up. And thinking it's just silly that she's keeping this a secret anyway, she decides to come clean. She never meant to lie to him; she's only been waiting for the right time.

B: "Luke, I wanted to wait. With the accident and everybody in the hospital...timing is terrible."

Lucas stops walking and takes her hands in his.

L: "Brooke, are you pregnant?"

B: "Yes."

While Brooke's simple affirmation shows how scared she is, Lucas's reaction is one of shock at first.

L: "Ok."

As Brooke diligently looks for a meaning in his eyes, she sees a faint smile come across his face and a second, much calmer "_Ok" _out of lips. He hugs her tight for a moment, and with one hand behind her head, whispers in her ear.

L: "I love you. Do you love me?"

Still in his arms and her head comfortably resting on his chest, she whispers back.

B: "Yes. So much."

L: "Then we're going to be fine."

**_***  
Present day, Tree Hill_**

While still staring out into the ocean, Brooke smiles briefly. That's the cruel trick memories play on us. Sometimes we retain a snapshot of a happy moment and forget how brief and fleeing it had been. We forget how it fits in the bigger picture, how it's only one small ring in a very long chain.

B: "When you hugged me that day, told me you loved me...I genuinely believed everything would be ok."

L: "I did too."

B: "And, for a second, it was perfect. We were perfect. I even forgot all that was wrong between us. I was so naive. Stupid, really."

L: "You were never stupid."

B: "Don't start being nice now. We were kids, Luke. I believed that love would fix everything. My love. For you. Stupid Brooke with her stupid dreams. Boy, did I wake up?"

L: "They were my dreams, too."

Brooke looks at Lucas for the first time since the name-calling earlier. Lucas sees the light go out of her eyes and a sadness take over her face.

B: "Not how I remember it."

Lucas knows to what Brooke is referring. He never forgot the night his life went off the tracks. Those fateful few minutes he's travelled back to in his nightmares ever since. The moment he tries unsuccessfully to rewrite every night. Yes, Lucas knows exactly when _wrath_ became his best friend, his guardian, his landlord.

_*****  
16 Years and 6½ Months Ago, Lucas's Bedroom, Tree Hill**_

Brooke and Lucas are in the middle of yet another heated argument that usually starts with Brooke accusing a confused Lucas about one thing or another. They've been fighting, just like this, for two weeks since Brooke found out about the kiss during the shooting. With one temporary exception. The few seconds outside the hospital when she told him she was pregnant. They mostly yell, cry, throw things, curse, break down, hug, and make up. Then, the cycle starts all over again. Regardless of what kicks it off or who picks on the other to begin with, there's only one thing, one person, one reason, all their arguments are about. This one doesn't seem any different at first. An angry Brooke and a pleading Lucas. But, if they could have foreseen how it would end, they would have both chosen silence instead.

B: "You stood outside that hospital and flat out lied to me. Telling me you loved me, that we'd be fine...what was that? A joke?"

L: "No, God, no. Brooke, I do love you and we will be fine."

B: "How can we be fine when you don't share your life with me Lucas?"

L: "What is this about?"

B: "Where do I start? How about your heart? You find out you have a condition that might kill you and you don't even say a word for months. God, you just take off for days without telling me or calling me once. You quit the team when you get back. Again, not a word. I'm your girlfriend, Lucas. You're the first person I want to talk to when something happens to me. Why don't I make your list?"

L: "I'm sorry, Brooke. I already apologized a hundred times for that. I should have told you. I won't make that mistake again."

B: "You dive into a fire risking your life to save the man at the top of your hate list, and once again, I'm the last one to find out. Why don't you ever let me in?"

L: "Why do I feel like we're having the same argument for the millionth time? I don't let you in and you don't trust me. That's what this is about, isn't it?"

B: "Don't you dare turn this around on me. How can I trust you when you keep things from me?"

L: "I'm not keeping anything from you, Brooke."

B: "Really? So, there's nothing else you're confiding in someone else who's not your girlfriend?"

L: "I swear. Nothing."

B: "Liar."

L: "Brooke, what's going on?"

B: "Why didn't you tell me Dan tried to kill you? That he tried to choke you in the gym?"

L: "How do you..."

B: "I'll give you one guess."

L: "Peyton told you."

B: "Oh yes, Peyton told me. Right after she told me how she's the one you trust to keep your secrets, to be your confidant, the person you run to when you're in trouble. How do you think it makes me feel that you choose to share your life with her, and not me?"

L: "Peyton happened to be there with me. It wasn't a conscious choice to go to her instead of you."

B: "She always _happens_ to be with you. And, where am I? You spent weeks telling me you were the guy for me, asking me to open up to you and you didn't open up to me. Instead, you went and kissed her. Again."

L: "She kissed me."

B: "Are you still in love with her?"

L: "This is hormones, right? This fit is because you're pregnant?"

B: "Because she's still in love with you. She told me herself."

L: "Even if that's true, those are her feelings. Not mine."

Brooke turns away in frustration while it finally dawns on Lucas that they are back to square one fighting about the same thing, the always-present elephant in the room since they got back together.

L: "This is never going to end, is it? This jealousy. You never forgave me what I did the first time we were together. You're never going to let it go no matter what I say now."

B: "You think I want to share the father of my child with another woman?"

L: "That's the problem, isn't it? The baby. It's too much. You don't want it."

Not believing what she just heard, Brooke slaps him hard enough to make him stumble back a step and reach for his cheek in pain. And, she's back to yelling again.

B: "What I don't want is to start a life, a family with you, only to find your side of the bed empty every night. We're having a child and we can't even love each other the right way. We can't talk for two minutes without fighting."

L: "Then let's not. Is that what you want to hear? Get an abortion and it's done. Life back to normal. I'm tired of fighting. Maybe we can get some peace."

That is the moment that changes everything. _Get an abortion and it's done. _The clear marker for a before and a forever-altered after. The beginning of the end for Brooke. The moment she begins to fall out of love with Lucas. And, the moment she stops liking him altogether. It leaves no fight within her. No energy to yell. Only the sound of suffocating sorrow crushing her heart into a million little pieces. Only the bitter taste of mourning for dreams revealed to be mere illusions disintegrating fast. What makes it worse is that the owner of these words that cannot be unspoken stand before her completely unaware of their impact. So, she does the only thing she can do; she leaves. Quietly. No looking back. There are no hugs, no making up this time. Only a girl walking away in final surrender and a boy staying behind in ultimate defeat.

_*****  
Present Day, Tree Hill**_

A single tear runs down Brooke's left cheek and she quickly wipes it away before Lucas can notice. There are certain rings on that long chain of memories that still have this effect on her. That night, this particular fight, those few vicious words, shifted her world forever. So she lets herself have this one single tear.

B: "Did you ever get my note?"

Brooke looks at Lucas who doesn't respond for a few seconds. Then, he takes out his wallet from his back pocket and removes a piece of paper from within. Unfolding it, he puts the crumbled paper on the railing for Brooke to see. It's her note. Brooke looks at the note and then back up at Lucas.

B: "You've had it with you all this time?"

Lucas is silent but closes his eyes and nods his head in agreement. The painful fact is that this old piece of paper is one of the handful of things he owns that means anything to him. He read it so many times that he knows it by heart. He found it slid under his door the morning after their fight and it hasn't left his wallet ever since. He keeps it with him at all times not only because it's the last thing he has of her, but also because it's a token, a raw reminder of the moment he unwillingly altered the course of his future. It keeps alive the memory of the immature and reckless teenager he used to be. It reminds him of the fragility of life, the power of a few words said in haste and anger. It is his contract with the _wrath_ within locking him inside the _heavy vintage_. Brooke takes the note and reads it to herself quietly.

"_Dear Lucas,  
__By the time you read this letter, I will be gone. Please don't look for me. There will be nothing for you to find. No baby. You were right. We both need some peace. Be happy.  
__Take care of yourself,  
__Brooke"_

L: "You didn't have the abortion."

B: "Clearly. I couldn't."

L: "All this time, you let me believe...God, you let me think that I made you..."

Brooke gets annoyed that Lucas is raising his voice, yet again, in a self-righteous tone.

B: "Get rid of our child? Come on, say it."

L: "That was my punishment? Seventeen years of torture thinking I killed my own baby."

B: "Don't talk to me about punishment. What do you know about torture? You didn't have to fall in love with him, carry him for nine months, and then have him be ripped from your arms. All you got was exactly what you asked for. Peace."

L: "You think I've had peace? Do I look peaceful to you?"

B: "What do you want me to say Lucas? You want an apology? Because you're not getting one. The fact that you would think I would terminate the pregnancy speaks volumes about the kind of relationship we used to have. About how little you knew me."

She shoves the note onto his chest with such force that he almost loses his footing. As he takes the note from her hand, she just drops her head in realization that they are right back to being the two angry teenagers yelling at each other. Taking a few steps away, they both try to calm down. Lucas knows that Brooke is right. He let himself think the worst of her. Not at first. But, he had to find a target, and outlet for the fury, and she became exactly that. He blamed her for leaving him in shambles. For the abortion that never happened. For the strain in all his relationships that followed. Only briefly. Only until he became the real culprit. The guilt lies within. The fury is permanently directed at his soul.

Back to staring into the ocean again, they stand multiple feet apart this time. As if distance somehow makes it safer. Brooke knows better. Nothing about Lucas has ever been safe.

L: "I looked everywhere for you."

B: "I told you not to."

L: "A note was supposed to stop me? You were gone, Brooke. Your cell was disconnected. Like you had never been there. Like you had always been a figment of my imagination. You just disappeared. Without a trace. I flew to California that day."

Confused, this time Brooke's the one with a look asking for an explanation.

L: "I thought maybe you went to stay with your parents. Your mother refused to tell me where you were. She kept telling me you weren't there and that you didn't want to see me. I didn't believe her. I practically camped out across the street. For days. In a rental car. Waiting for you to come home. But, you never showed."

For a split second, Brooke wonders if it would have changed anything if she had been there. She quickly shakes the thoughts out of her head. No use in what-ifs. The past cannot be changed.

B: "I didn't know. I wasn't in California."

L: "I figured that much. I didn't think Victoria would tell you I was there. But what else was I supposed to do?"

B: "You were supposed to live your life. Move on. And, you did that."

It's Lucas's turn to be confused. He doesn't understand how she can be so sure, so unyielding.

L: "What makes you think I moved on?"

B: "I saw you Lucas. I know."

L: "What? What do you know?"

B: "I know your life went on just fine without me. I know you and Peyton got together after I left. I saw you two."

L: "Saw us? How?"

B: "Myrtle Beach. At Rachel's."

Instead of moving to California, Brooke had taken up residence in Myrtle Beach at Rachel's parents' beach house. She never told her parents she was pregnant. Only that she was moving and since she had turned 18 already, they couldn't stop her. Brooke's parents never found out about Brandon. To this day, they still don't know about him. In the days following the car accident, Brooke had found a kindred spirit in Rachel. Some may say a fellow lifelong bitch in training. Having moved out of Peyton's, she had already been living with Rachel by the time she decided on leaving Tree Hill for good. That night, Rachel not only gave her a shoulder to cry on, but also helped pack her bags. Offering the beach house for as long as she needed it, Rachel promised her she would keep her secret and her location hidden from everyone, especially Lucas. And, she never once broke her promise. Not even the day Lucas and Peyton showed up looking for Brooke.

L: "I knew you were there. Why didn't you come out? Say something? God, anything."

B: "There was no use. You finally had the life you wished for. The girl you were meant to be with. Without a baby you didn't want. Without any obligations tying you down. My leaving was the best thing for us both. It became crystal clear when you showed up with her."

L: "I came looking for you, Brooke."

B: "So?"

It was Lucas's turn to wonder. Would it have changed anything if he had showed up alone, without Peyton? Yes, he dated Peyton after Brooke disappeared. As a way to numb the pain. To forget. To move on. It didn't work. It was never meant to be. Their whole relationship, if anyone could call it that, became all about Brooke. About their never-ending search to get her back. The boy who loved her and her supposed best friend looking for her together, not only because they missed her, but also because in their own way they knew they were the cause of her departure. Following Rachel had been Peyton's idea. She had noticed that Rachel had been driving out of town almost every weekend since Brooke had left. So, she had suggested they tail her one Friday afternoon. And, it led them to Myrtle Beach. If Lucas had known that Brooke would have revealed herself if only he had told Peyton to stay behind, maybe things would be very different right now. The cruel irony is that Lucas and Peyton broke up that day. After a completely silent car ride back to Tree Hill. The moment they returned home. They broke up because there had never been anything to hold onto between them to begin with. They broke up because his heart was already taken. They broke up because the trip had made it clear for Peyton she was never going to be the one. He quickly shakes the thoughts out of his head. No use in what-ifs. The past cannot be changed.

L: "It doesn't matter now."

B: "You know, that was the day I decided on the adoption. I was barely 18 and I had nothing. Not one thing to give to our child. No money, no job, no parents, no support system. Except for Rachel. All I had was love. Infinite love. And, that's exactly why I gave him up. It's because I loved him that I wanted the best for him. Two parents to protect him, to care for him, to love him. Two people who have waited and planned for him. Who would make him the center of their lives. I wanted that for him. More than anything. I believed it was the best thing for him. I was a kid myself. I didn't know any better. And, when I met them, I knew I had made the right decision."

_*****  
Fifteen Years and 11½ Months Ago, MUSC Hospital, Charleston South Carolina**_

Having just given birth to a baby boy, Brooke is resting in her hospital bed with Rachel by her side. Born on August 9, he's a Leo. Rachel tells her that means he will be confident, ambitious, generous, and loyal. Brooke just wishes he's healthy and happy. He weighs 6lbs 15 oz, has her dimples and his father's blond hair. Not that she knows any of this. Somewhere in between her screams of labor pain, she specifically instructed the nurses to take him out of the room as soon as he was born. Rachel knows it's because she would never be able to let him go if she sees him. One look, one touch, would be enough. Brooke can hear the noise of the city out her window. Billions of people out living their lives. Her son is one of them now. A face, a number in the crowd. She wonders if she would recognize him years from now if she hears his voice or sees his smile on the street somewhere out there. Her thoughts are interrupted by the nurse.

Nurse: "Brooke, you have a couple visitors outside. Are you feeling up to it?"

Rachel: "Who are they?"

Nurse: "They said to tell you their names are Caroline and Matthew. Would you like to see them?"

Caroline and Matthew are her son's new parents. The agency's file had everything but their last name. Confidentiality and for everyone's protection they said. She thought it was probably better that way so she won't be tempted to find them and knock on their door someday. They had wanted to meet her for months but she always refused. She thought that knowing too much, having visual cues into her son's life...all of it would make it that much harder. But, today she has a change of heart.

Brooke: "Yes, please send them in."

As the nurse leaves to escort the Walkers in, Rachel shows concern.

B: "Rachel, I want to meet them. Please help me sit up."

As Rachel places a second pillow behind Brooke's back, the nurse brings the couple in.

B: "Hi."

Caroline: "Hi Brooke."

While Caroline extends her hand for Brooke, Matt introduces himself to Rachel and shakes her hand. Brooke sees before her a tall, blond, attractive couple in their early 30s. Clearly on cloud nine, they look like they are having the greatest day ever.

C: "How are you feeling?"

B: "Ok, considering."

Matthew: "Brooke, thank you. You have no idea how precious this gift you've given us is."

B: "I have some idea."

C: "Is there anything we can do for you?"

B: "Actually, there is one thing. You can promise me you'll love him."

C: "We already do."

B: "And protect him."

M: "Always."

B: "Thank you. He's yours now. Take care of him, forever."

C: "We will."

M: "Brooke, would you like to know what we named him?"

For a moment, Brooke looks at Rachel who still sports the same concerned look since she heard the adoptive parents wanted to meet her. Turning back towards Matthew, she shakes her head.

B: "I shouldn't."

C: "Ok. We had an idea. But if it's too hard or you don't want to, we understand."

M: "We were hoping you would give him his middle name. What do you think?"

A tear escapes down her cheek. She looks down as she wipes it away.

C: "Brooke, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to upset you. Matt, we should go."

M: "Yeah, you're right. We should go. Brooke, it was a pleasure meeting you. He's in good hands. The best, really."

C: "Bye, Brooke. Thank you."

Brooke watches them leave but calls for them before they disappear out of sight. Caroline returns to the room to listen.

B: "Lucas. His middle name. I'd like it to be Lucas. If it's ok with you."

C: "Lucas. It's a beautiful name. So, it shall be."

As Caroline joins her husband outside probably to go watch over their newborn son, Brooke feels Rachel's arms around her and she lets herself cry on her friend's shoulder. There's a bittersweet comfort in knowing that her tears mean her son never has to know pain, never has to be alone or lost. A poignant consolation that her heartbreak means her son will always be taken care of, provided for, and cherished. And, knowing he's safe and loved makes everything worth it.

_*****  
Present Day, Tree Hill**_

Still lost in memories, Brooke realizes the name she didn't want to know then must have been Brandon. She wonders what happened to the couple she met that day in the hospital. She knows they would have never left her son voluntarily or let him be emancipated. As if reading her mind, Lucas asks out loud the question in her mind.

Lucas: "How did we end up here, Brooke? Where are his adoptive parents?"

Brooke: "I don't know, ok? I don't have all the answers."

L: "What are we going to do?"

B: "_We _are going to do nothing. Because there is no we, Luke. _I _am going to find out what happened if it's the last thing I do. I don't care about a piece of paper or a signature. Petition or not, I don't intend to let him go. Never again."

And, with those final words, Brooke leaves Lucas alone out on the terrace. He watches her leave without a single look back. Turning back towards the ocean, he feels Brooke's note getting heavy in his hand. He remembers he's been holding it ever since Brooke shoved it onto his chest. He folds it a few times and places it back in his wallet. But, it feels different this time. Like this contract with the _wrath_ within is no longer written in permanent ink. Like all of a sudden, the door to the _vintage_ was left ajar. Like someone showed him how to turn the _wrath_ into love, giving him his best chance of survival yet.


	6. The Thin Line Between Love and Hate

"_Love commingled with hate is more powerful than love. Or hate."  
__~Joyce Carol Oates, Pulitzer Prize nominated 20__th__ century American author_

Love and hate. Two seemingly extreme opposites, yet somehow interchangeable sensations. Who among us have never found herself riding the line between adoration and abhorrence? Fuming that the object of our affection changes into a villain all of a sudden. Turning even the calmest of us into rarely self-contained roller coasters of emotion. Causing us to do and say things we neither mean nor understand. It's not just our experience that draws that thin line. Even science suggests that the same brain circuitry is involved in feeling and acting on both. Is the real problem the possibly outdated ideal of everlasting romantic love that is bound to disappoint us? Or is it that our hormones conflict with our egos leading to the fickleness of our relationships? Maybe we hate only those we love with such passion that unhinges our souls and drives our hearts into madness. Our most intense desires feeding our most toxic hate. Maybe we recognize a part of ourselves in the target of our loathing. Some people believe hate is simply misguided love. That one inverts the other. Others believe that when hate darkens life, love illuminates it. That they are merely two sides of the same coin. Regardless, hate and love both spring from the same bottomless well, the heart, and neither is quite within our control.

There is no villain worthy of true hatred in the story of Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott. Not really. There are only two imperfect people who made mistakes not uncommon in their young age. There is only love; the kind that unhinges the soul and drives the heart mad. Yet there is a son paralyzed by a cage of hatred that narrows and degrades his very existence. There's a father imprisoned by the enmity toward himself for the things he did and said years ago that he neither meant nor understood. And, there's a mother who feels empowered by love, yet sickened by bitterness both at the same time. Brooke Davis learned a long time ago that there's no truth in hate; it's too great a burden to bear. Allowing it to take a hold of you only leads to self-punishment. Like a never-ending wait. So, outside the front door of the Roe house, she pushes away that bitterness toward the man she just walked away from so that she can concentrate on what she has to do next. Walking towards her rental car, she searches for her cell phone in her purse. Going through her contacts, she stops when she finds the number she hasn't dialled in almost 10 years. Without hesitation, she hits the dial button.

Sam Spade: "Spade & Archer. How can we help you?"

Brooke: "Hello. This is Brooke Davis. Could I please speak with Mr. Spade?"

S: "Ms. Davis, it's Sam here. It's been a long time. How are you?"

B: "Hi Sam. I didn't think you would be answering the phones."

S: "Effie's out sick today. Are you all right? You haven't called us since..."

B: "I need your help again, Sam. I need you to re-open the file."

S: "_The_ file? You mean the Walker file? Caroline and Matthew Walker, last known address Charleston, South Carolina."

B: "That's the one. But, I think they may have moved to North Carolina. To Raleigh."

S: "Ms. Davis, I thought you said to close that file for good."

B: "Sam, I changed my mind. I need you to find everything you can about them. Where they are this minute, what they had for lunch yesterday, where they plan to go tomorrow."

S: "All right."

B: "My office will be in touch to set up correspondence and an expense account for you. Just like last time."

S: "I'll start right away."

B: "Thank you. Sam, please hurry. This is of utmost urgency."

S: "I will email you everything we find within 24 hours."

B: "Perfect. Thank you."

Brooke had hired the Spade & Archer detective agency to find the couple who had adopted her son four years after meeting them at the hospital. On the day she graduated from FIT, after four long years of longing, she didn't want to start the next chapter of her life without her son. It took the agency two years to track down the couple and in those two years, she got somewhat close to Sam, the old man who was the only person besides Rachel to know the truth. Sam had done it once before, and she had complete faith that he would find them again. As she uses her blackberry to email her assistant with instructions on this new top secret project, she shakes out of her head the memories of the last time Sam had located the Walkers for her. The last time she had felt limitless joy and unbearable pain all at the same time. Until today. Sitting in her car with hands on the steering wheel, she just stares at the front door of the Roe house. For a split second, she considers going back inside, telling Lucas all about her plans, letting him help her. But then she remembers what he cost her years ago and everything he accused her of just now, and all she can feel is aversion. Disgust. Revulsion. A part of her can sit in this car, outside of this house, for as long as it takes Sam to get back to her. Another part of her wants to drive as far as she can, maybe to Raleigh, to roam the streets looking for her son. Or to the airport so she can fly back to New York, to the safety of familiar surroundings. Stay or go. Alone or together. Since the last time she left this very house, flight has been encoded in Brooke Davis's dna. Too late to change now. But, she knows there's one more thing she has to do before she can leave Tree Hill. So, she dials the phone again.

Brooke: "Hey, it's me. Brooke. Yes, I'm here. Meet me for lunch? Riverside Cafe in half hour."

Lucas watches Brooke drive away from behind the curtains inside the house. Since she walked away from him, he's been debating with himself on whether he should go after her or give her the space she seems to want. His thoughts are interrupted by Karen.

Karen: "Brooke left?"

Lucas: "Yes."

K: "First you let Brandon leave, now Brooke. Lucas, what are you doing?"

L: "Mom, back off. Ok? I'm still trying to digest all of this."

K: "Well, chew faster."

Sighing and dropping his head back, Lucas sits down by the kitchen table. Karen slowly walks up to him and takes the chair across the table. Lucas has to look down because it's too hard not to notice how similar this all feels. Almost seventeen years ago, the mother and son sat across from each other at this very same kitchen table. Just like now. It was right after Lucas had returned from California where he had gone looking for Brooke. When Karen couldn't understand why Brooke had disappeared without a word, Lucas showed her the note. That was when he told her for the first time that Brooke had been pregnant. And, that he had suggested, in a moment of anger, that she get an abortion. He watched the affection in her mother's eyes be replaced instantly by hatred. Karen's response was to slap him hard across the cheek and tell him that he couldn't be the son she raised. Because the son she raised would never turn into his own version of Dan. Things between Karen and Lucas were never the same after that night. The painful disintegration of their relationship was one of the reasons why Lucas moved away shortly after high school graduation. And why he kept moving ever since.

K: "You have a son. A son. Do you get that? Do you know what that means?"

L: "I know mom, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway."

K: "A second chance. That's what it means. And, believe me, they don't come around often."

L: "What do you want me to do?"

K: "What you didn't do the last time. I want you to act now before it's too late. I want you to choose your words, your actions, carefully. I want you to look inside and figure out what you want before life forces its own plan down your throat. I want you to bring my grandson back. Is that too much to ask?"

L: "I gotta go."

Lucas quickly gets up and starts walking towards the door. Karen gets up as well and calls after him.

K: "That's it? Where are you going? What are you going to do?"

He turns around to face her, but stands his ground.

L: "I don't know. Ok? I can't think here. I heard you, mom. Everything you said. I heard you. But, you gotta let me deal with this on my own terms."

She nods her head, agreeing to let him go. She knows asking whether he is coming back is futile. He's not. And, when he leaves shutting the door behind him, Karen's left standing in her kitchen. Alone, once again. Her son is gone. Her grandson is gone. She didn't know until that moment that you could miss someone you never knew existed just a few hours ago. As she slowly sits back down, she reassures herself that even if her son fails her again, she can trust Brooke to do the right thing this time. After all, only another mother knows how impossible it is to let your son go the second time around. And, over at Riverside Cafe, Brooke couldn't agree more.

Brooke: "He hates me. He doesn't want to have anything to do with me. With either of us. But, none of that matters. I don't how I'm going to do it. But, I will get him back. There's no other choice."

Haley: "I still can't get over it. You could have told me. You know? I could have helped you."

B: "I couldn't do that to you."

H: "To me?"

B: "If I told you, I'd also be asking you to keep this life-altering secret from your best friend. I could never ask you to do that."

They both look down at the table, to their food, but neither has much of an appetite. For about twelve years after she disappeared, Haley James Scott did not hear from Brooke Davis. Except for the paparazzi pictures in glossy magazines and style sections of daily newspapers, she did not see her. Not once. Not until she showed up in a hospital corridor on possibly the worst day of Haley's life. Like an old friend appearing out of nowhere exactly when she is most needed. Watching the morning news, Brooke had heard that the Bobcats' star player Nathan Scott had been taken in for spinal surgery after an accident the previous night. Nothing could have stopped her from taking the company jet down to Charlotte to support her friend. That's when she first met Jamie. And, the little boy reminded her so much of her own son that the pain wouldn't allow her to stay for more than a day. It was probably for the best since Lucas arrived not an hour after she had left. Brooke and Haley called and wrote each other a few times each year ever since. Sometimes Haley enclosed pictures of the growing Jamie, whose birthdays always featured a phone call and some lavish gift from his new aunt Brooke. Brooke was one of the few people Haley confided in about Nathan's addiction during his rehabilitation. About a year ago, when Haley officially separated from Nathan, the first thing she did was to use the plane tickets Brooke had sent her to take Jamie and visit her in New York City. They always had this unwritten rule, an unspoken understanding, that they would not discuss Lucas. Brooke never asked Haley about him and on the rare occasions when Haley talked to Lucas, she never mentioned Brooke. If there was a day to break that rule, it was today.

H: "Nothing's been the same with him since you left."

B: "Haley, if this is about how Lucas suffered, I don't want to hear it. He's still the same self-centred jackass he's always been. Just with more facial hair."

H: "All right, all right. I won't defend him. What he did is indefensible. But, you have to know something. He's not the same Lucas who hurt you. He's broken, Brooke. He's been paying for what he did for years. He left right after graduation and he's been running ever since. He only lasted a couple months in college before he dropped out. God, he moved so many times that sometimes I'd forget where he was. He and Karen, they hardly ever talk anymore. Lily and Jamie are his only link to his family. And believe me, it's because the kids won't leave him alone."

B: "Am I supposed to feel sorry for him? My life hasn't been all puppies and rainbows. I can't take on his pain too."

H: "I'm not saying that. And, please know I'm not judging you or blaming you. But, you're not exactly squeaky clean here, Brooke. You just took off. All this time, not one word. To any of us."

B: "I wanted to tell you. So many times. But, what good would it have done? It wouldn't have changed anything."

H: "What are you going to do now?"

B: "I'm going to find my son."

H: "You might want to bring a pack of nicotine patches with you."

It's the first time Brooke smiles that day. Of course, she noticed the smell of a chain-smoker on her son. She knows he's going to be a handful. But, she never expected it to be easy anyway. She welcomes the challenge. Now, if only she can get the chance.

H: "How's Lucas dealing with all this? Is he mad?"

B: "Do I look like I care?"

H: "So, no happy reunions, huh?"

Brooke sighs and dropping her fork, turns her stare out into the water. After all, two can play that game.

B: "You tell me. How are things going with Nathan?"

Finding the spotlight turned on her all of a sudden, Haley fidgets in her seat.

H: "Fine. Just fine."

Brooke looks back at her friend with that all-knowing smirk that confirms a new occupant is in the hot seat.

B: "So, not fine."

H: "We're finding a way...to trust each other again. So, we can co-parent. Nothing more."

B: "Really? That's all? So when you look over to the table behind us it doesn't remind you of something?"

Haley knows exactly to what Brooke is referring. After all, she practically put their whole love story on stage once. The table behind them is where she first tutored Nathan in math some eighteen years ago. It's where he found a plastic charm bracelet inside a cracker jack box and placed it around her wrist. _Don't say I never gave you anything_. Haley also remembers her response. _Please don't waste my time. I'm already taking a huge chance on you because my instincts are telling me you're full of shit._ The memories are neither good nor bad. Neither pitch black nor blindingly white. Just like their seventeen years of marriage, they have their ups and downs, love and hate, happiness and sorrow, and a whole lot of gray in between. There's a part of her that wonders if she should have stuck with her gut, trusted her instincts, all those years ago. But, then she would have never had Jamie. And, that's unacceptable. There's also the small part of her that knows exactly where that charm bracelet is safely tucked away right now. So, yes, the table reminds her of the promise of something great. But then, she doesn't need the table to remind her of that.

H: "It's only a table, Brooke. That's all."

B: "Ok, but you have to know something too. He's not the same Nathan who hurt you either."

Memories haunt more than just Haley that day. Lucas Scott has been walking since he left home an hour ago. Somehow his feet betray him taking him to the one place he didn't want to end up at, River Court. _It's not just a court...it's where I came from, it's where I belong...it's my world. _Lucas hasn't picked up a basketball since he moved away from Tree Hill over sixteen years ago. The game hurts his heart...not just physically. With every bounce of the ball, flashes of a different life appear before his eyes. He sees himself walking onto the court amidst deafening applause in a packed gym. Keith and his mom, happy arm in arm, wave at him from the bleachers. The girl he loves cheers from the sidelines smiling and he smiles back at the painted on R on her cheek right above those irresistible dimples. _So, do I get to be a part of this world? The biggest part. _He hears the whistle and all that's wrong in life falls away, the noise stops, and everything becomes simple and clear in his head. A very different life. Definitely not his. Not anymore. He watched Nathan play with the Bobcats once about a decade ago. Only because Jamie begged him to come. His nephew has been inviting him to the Ravens games ever since he made the team in second semester of his freshman year. But, he hasn't been able to muster up enough strength to step foot into that gym again. Lucas decides to call the only other person who knows the pain of not only leaving the game behind, but also breaking Jamie's heart...his brother.

34 years-old, 6'2'', 180lbs, dark brown hair, blue eyes, twice NCAA MVP with Duke Blue Devils, NBA All-Star with Charlotte Bobcats, recovering alcoholic and drug addict, estranged husband and father. That, in a nutshell, is Nathan R. Scott, uncle of Brandon L. Walker...not that he knows him. Yet. He was only in high school when love changed his life. It gave him everything he has ever cared about: a son, his soulmate, the support and strength to go after his dreams. It took only a few seconds for hatred to take over. Four and a half years ago, he tried to break up a fight between one of his teammates and a drunken, disgruntled rival fan at a bar. Thrown through a plate of glass window, he was immediately taken to the hospital. Spinal surgery not only ended his career, but also left his legs paralyzed and him bound to a wheel-chair. What followed was two years of gruelling physical therapy hindered at every step by the bottle and painkillers. His wife, Haley, stuck by him through the self-loathing, nights and days spent passed out, and degrading insults. She stayed with him up until a year ago when she walked in on him in bed with another woman. Nathan was so strung out on pills and booze to remember what happened that night. He does remember, however, the moment he decided to change his life. When his then fifteen year old son punched him cold, down to the floor, to stop his verbal attacks on his mother. Nathan has been sober ever since that moment eight months ago. Every morning he wakes up and has to decide to let love overcome hatred so that he can keep fighting to get his life back. To get his wife to forgive him. To see the kind of affection and trust in her eyes she used to have only for him. To get his son to even talk to him. To see the kind of respect and admiration in his eyes he used to have only for him. When the brother he hasn't seen in months calls, it's no small surprise. So, now over lunch downtown, they catch up on the recent news.

Nathan: "I wish I could have the right to say your life is like a soap opera."

Lucas: "Yeah, I'd have to say look who's talking."

N: "We can always blame Dan. Those are some messed up genes we inherited."

L: "I wish I could. This particular mess is all our doing, brother."

They both sigh and look away in silence, until Nathan asks what he's been curious about since Lucas told him he has a son.

N: "Brandon. What's he like?"

L: "Arrogant, smug, stubborn...smart, tough, confident. He's the best of her."

N: "Brooke. What was it like seeing her?"

L: "Infuriating. She pretty much hates me."

N: "Welcome to the club. It's all about cold stares and chilly brush offs over here. You never get used to it."

L: "Nate, you have to give her time. Don't give up. Keep showing her you've changed."

N: "I don't have any other choice. I love her."

L: "Is Jamie talking to you yet?"

N: "We had a brief chat before he left for High Flyers. You know, hello, have a safe trip, goodbye. It's progress."

L: "I should have been here for you. You know, more than the phone calls. It's just that I haven't been in any shape to help anyone for a long time. I don't think I've ever apologized for that. I am really sorry."

N: "It's ok, Luke. You don't have to. No one could have helped me then. But, you're here now. That's something. So, what are you going to do?"

L: "Right now, I'm going to go see Haley. I honestly can't see what comes after that."

N: "I'll make you a deal. You can have my couch for the night, if you let me come along."

L: "Any chance to see Haley, huh?"

Nathan extends his hand and Lucas shakes it sealing their deal. While they drive to Tric to see Haley, she's already giving Brooke a tour of Red Bedroom Records in the back of the nightclub.

Haley: "Mia is recording right now, so I'll show you the studio later. Peyton's office is to the left and this is my space."

With pictures of Jamie everywhere and the piano in the middle, Brooke thinks she would have guessed it's Haley's office anyway.

Brooke: "It's a great place, Haley. Where's Peyton?"

H: "She's in London. One of our artists is on tour, but she should be back in a couple of days. How long has it been?"

B: "Since I left. Peyton and I haven't spoken in almost seventeen years."

H: "Don't you think it's time to change that?"

B: "Maybe. Excuse me."

Brooke is distracted by her vibrating blackberry before she can elaborate on her answer. The email she receives is from Sam Spade, the private investigator. As she reads the email, Haley can see Brooke get confused and anxious.

_Ms. Davis,  
__Crucial information has come forward early in our investigation and we did not want to wait until the full report to share this with you. Attached please find the scan of a relevant news clipping. Our full report will be sent tomorrow close of business.  
__Regards,  
__Sam_

H: "Is everything ok?"

B: "I don't know. Do you mind if I use your computer? I can't open attachments on my blackberry."

H: "Sure. Go ahead."

As Haley gets called into the studio to help Mia, Brooke logs onto her email account online using Haley's laptop. The email comes with a short newspaper article from Raleigh Daily from three years ago. As soon as she opens the attachment, Brooke sees a gory picture of a flipped over car. She feels her heart first stop beating and then drop several stories down to her stomach. She closes her eyes for a moment but forces herself to keep reading because she has to know what happened. The more she reads, the more her eyes fill up with tears and she has to cover her wide open mouth with her hand.

_Local Couple Dies in Crest Hill Car Crash  
__Caroline (44) and Matthew Walker (46) died early Saturday morning in Crest Hill when their car flipped over in what police said appears to be an accident caused by a drunk driver headed south in the north-bound lane. The investigators believe the Walkers' car swerved to avoid collision, left the road, flipped over, and hit a tree. The authorities said that the couple died at the scene due to injuries sustained. The Walkers, who are described by their devastated friends as loving parents and an upstanding family, are survived by their thirteen year old son. One grieving neighbour told us that the Walkers were returning home from a weekend trip celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary. No family members could be reached for comment. Investigators are looking at possible equipment malfunction, but that the drunk driver, Greg Wills (21) of Durham, North Carolina, may soon be facing felony vehicular homicide charges. Wills has already been charged with driving under the influence at the time of the accident. _

Brooke's hand slowly drops from her face to her lap. She lets a few tears fall down her cheek. She gets up and, without stopping, walks out of Haley's office and into Tric. She quietly takes a seat at the bar and calls for the bartender.

Brooke: "Tequila. Leave the bottle."

Owen: "How about we start with one shot and see how it goes?"

Brooke grabs and chugs the shot as soon as Owen pours it.

B: "The bottle. Please."

As Nathan and Lucas walk inside Tric, they are too focused on finding Haley to notice that Brooke is drowning her sorrows in the bottle at the nearby bar. When they reach Haley's office, they find it empty. Seeing Haley's jacket and purse on the chair, Nathan suggests she must be in the studio. While they wait for her to come out, the open computer screen piques Lucas's interest. As soon as he reads the first line of the article, he knows Brooke must have been there. He looks around the office for her to no avail and returns to the clipping. As he reads the details of why his son ended up in foster care, Brooke keeps downing one shot after another at the bar. Grabbing the bottle away from her, Owen offers a deal.

O: "I'll do the pouring and you do the talking."

An already drunk Brooke slurs her words and holds up a warning finger.

B: "Oh, you do not want me to start talking. Trust me."

O: "Well, in that case, you're cut off. Because the next one, honey, will feel like arsenic on the rocks."

B: "Fine, you're not the only game in town."

As Brooke stumbles getting up from the stool, Owen takes hostage the blackberry she leaves behind on the bar.

O: "You're not going anywhere like this. Keys. Now."

Brooke takes a step back and throws her arms up in the air in frustration.

B: "I don't have them on me. See? No purse."

Owen leans over the bar and motions for Brooke to come closer.

O: "All right, sit down. Come on."

B: "What are you doing?"

The bartender hits redial on her blackberry in hopes that the last person Brooke called would be close enough to come get her. Haley comes out of the studio just in time to hear her phone ringing. Before she can get to it, Lucas sees the caller ID and picks it up.

Lucas: "Brooke, where are you?"

Owen: "Uhm, no man. This is Owen, the bartender at Tric."

L: "Is Brooke there?"

O: "If that's a very drunk, petite brunette in a green dress, then yes she is."

L: "I'll be right there. Don't let her leave."

Lucas hangs up the phone and stands up in a hurry, but a confused Haley stops him.

H: "Where's Brooke? What's going on?"

L: "She's at the bar getting wasted."

H: "I was gone maybe half an hour. She was just here. She wanted to check something on the computer."

L: "It's about Brandon. See for yourself."

Lucas turns the computer screen towards Haley and Nathan. While they begin reading, he starts walking out. He turns around one last time before he leaves.

L: "Hales, can I take her to your place?"

H: "Yeah. The keys are in my purse. Black one by the door. It's good to see you by the way."

Lucas takes Haley's keys and runs out the office towards the bar. What he sees is Brooke climbing atop a bar stool, right arm extended, reaching for a liquor bottle clearly too far from her. Grabbing her by the waist, he sits her down on the stool against her objections.

B: "Don't touch me."

Stepping back, Lucas holds out his hands and obeys.

L: "Ok, I'm not touching you."

Brooke turns to Owen who's been quietly watching the scene from behind the bar.

B: "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine. Bartender, this guy is bothering me."

For a second Owen wonders if he should interfere.

O: "Hey man, who are you?"

L: "I'm the father of her child."

That answer makes him lean back and let Lucas handle her.

O: "The guy I just spoke to?"

L: "Yeah that guy. Brooke, come on. I'll take you home."

Brooke leans her head back and chuckles at the mention of a _home_.

B: "Home? You're going to take me home? That's hilarious. Where is that exactly Lucas? Huh?"

L: "I'll take you to Haley's. Let's go."

B: "Why don't you back off? I'm not going anywhere with you. Can't you see I'm extremely busy with my friend here. What's your name?"

O: "The fun's over. You're done."

Annoyed that the guys are basically raining on her parade, Brooke stands up determined to show them she can handle her liquor.

B: "You two...God, can't a girl have some fun? You want me to walk a straight line, touch my nose? See, I'm fine."

When she almost falls over, Lucas catches her.

L: "No, you're not. This isn't you."

His arms are around her waist and they are close enough for their foreheads to almost touch. Brooke looks straight into his eyes while she barely whispers her next thought.

B: "As if you ever knew me."

L: "I know you."

Pushing his arms off her body, she sits back on the stool. Her hand taps on the bar asking for another drink. But, Lucas has already run out of patience.

L: "Party's over. You're leaving with me."

As he grabs her by the waist and throws her over his shoulder, her fists begin pounding on his back and she calls him a Neanderthal, a savage, a caveman.

B: "Put me down at once. Do you hear me?"

Finally having reached the bar themselves, Nathan and Haley watch Lucas make his way through the evening crowd carrying Brooke out kicking and screaming.

Nathan: "If that's not love, I don't know what is."

Haley looks up at him and smiles.

Haley: "Kids these days. A box of chocolates and a dozen red roses used to be enough."

Nathan smiles back and turns to face her.

N: "So, that's what you want? Roses? Chocolate?"

Uncomfortable and surprisingly embarrassed at the suggestion, Haley starts rambling.

H: "Uhm...that's not what I meant...I mean, I like chocolate. Who doesn't like chocolate? No. What I meant was..."

Content that he can still make her blush, Nathan smiles and rescues her.

N: "It's ok. I know what you meant."

Grateful for the save, Haley nods her head.

H: "I should go. Mia's waiting for me at the studio."

Without waiting for a response, Haley turns around and starts walking. Because she knows what Nathan will say. He'll want to wait for her. Ask if she's had dinner already. Or simply look at her the way he used to before their marriage imploded. And after what they just read on that newspaper article and what they witnessed happen between their friends, she feels too weak to resist him. She barely makes it through the door of her office, when she hears Nathan call for her. She turns around and sees him running towards her.

H: "Yes?"

N: "I don't want to be like them, Haley. I don't want to wait seventeen years to tell you what I have known from the very beginning. From the first time I saw you. I can and I will wait for you. As long as it takes. But, let's not be like them."

H: "Nathan, please. I can't do this with you right now."

N: "Ok. I'll leave. But just so you know, I'll come back. Always."

Haley watches him leave and when she's sure he's out of earshot, she whispers to herself.

H: "...and forever."

As Haley sits down at her desk and closes the attachment still open on her computer, Lucas parks his car on the driveway and helps a belligerent Brooke out of the car. The wind blowing in through the open car window helps sober her up a little. But not enough to stop yelling. The conversation through the house up to the guest room is the same as the one during their drive. Brooke tells him he is kidnapping her, calls him a pretentious, entitled jerk with a hero complex. And, Lucas just takes it. Once inside the guest room, Lucas finally talks back.

L: "That's enough. I know why you're upset. We can talk."

B: "I don't want to talk to you."

L: "Right, you just want to yell at me."

B: "You know, I do have one question. How much do I have to drink exactly? To forget what we did? To move on? You seem to be ok with it all. So, can you please tell me? Because I don't think there's that much alcohol in the universe."

L: "Take off your clothes."

Shocked and unnerved by the suggestion, Brooke turns away from him.

B: "What? I'm not taking off my clothes."

L: "As you wish."

Lucas grabs her with both arms from behind and drags her into the bathroom. Holding onto her despite Brooke's violent struggle to free herself, he turns the shower on and carries her under the water. She keeps hitting on his chest and yelling at him that he ruined her night, that he needs to let her go. All he does is to try to contain her under the water until she collapses in his arms. They both end up on the cold shower tiles under the running water. She's crying profusely and he's brushing her wet hair back as he tells her to let it all out.

B: "They're dead. He didn't just lose us Lucas, he lost them, too."

L: "I know."

Resting her head on his chest and still in his arms, Brooke keeps crying as she talks.

B: "He was just thirteen and all alone in the world."

L: "I know."

B: "We did that to him. You and I...we ruined his life."

Lucas slowly places first his chin, then his cheek on top of her head and makes a promise.

L: "I'll fix it. I'll fix everything."

Brooke separates from him and as she stands up, her earlier formal manner returns. Cold. Detached. Angry.

B: "It's too late."

She steps out of the shower and grabbing a towel off the rack, she leaves Lucas behind. Alone on the tiles. He knows the moment's over. She already shut down. Defeated once again, he stands up and turns the water off. When he walks back in the room, he sees that Brooke is removing the covers off the bed.

B: "You should go."

L: "I don't think you can just sleep this off."

B: "I don't care what you think. You don't run my life anymore."

L: "I'm going to stay right here and watch over you until Haley comes home. So, you can kick, scream, and even bite. I'm not leaving."

B: "This is ridiculous, I'm not a baby. I'm not afraid of the dark. I've slept alone for years."

Regretting what her words imply the moment she utters them, Brooke quickly looks away.

L: "Brooke, I would do anything, anything to erase our fight that night."

B: "Please go."

L: "Grow up, will you? I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me."

B: "What do you want to hear Lucas? That you did this? That you ruined us? You were supposed to be better than this. I'm in pain and you brought me here. The person who was supposed to love me, the only one who could have made the pain go away. Do you want to hear that I hate you? Because I do. I've never hated anyone more. I hate you for everything you've done to me."

With every word, she gets louder and enraged with jolts of adrenaline. Frenzied, she steps defiantly close until she raises her hand to slap him. His reflexes kick in and he grabs her wrist in mid-air and they freeze for a moment. All of a sudden, Brooke feels captured beneath the intensity of his gaze. Stripped. Like her every thought is transparent. Like he can see right through the fog and behind the veil of the anger straight to the fire below. She loses not only her train of thought, but also all coordination. A bolt of exhilarated fear goes through her. A part of her is anxious what he will do next, the rest is afraid he may simply walk away. Infuriated even more, she reaches out to shove him with her other arm.

B: "Go to hell."

But, he's too quick. Before she can make contact, he grabs both her hands, pushes them above her head and slams her back against the wall behind her. She tries to breathe, but she ends up inhaling his scent. She tries to swallow, but her throat closes up. She tries to look away, but his eyes won't let her. Brooke Davis has seen this familiar, determined look on Lucas Scott many times before. It's been almost seventeen years since such a look burnt up her cheeks and sent shivers down her spine. Just like it does now. She knows there's no use in protesting. She doesn't want to anyway.

When he leans down to kiss her firmly, she whimpers against his lips, but it only lasts a moment. She knows she already lost the battle before it began. It's only a matter of seconds before they practically rip each other's clothes off. The sound of unbuckled belts, kicked off shoes, scattering buttons, and wet clothing hitting the wood floor. There's nothing sweet or gentle about Brooke or Lucas that night. When they touch, sparks ignite between them. Neither cares if they leave a mark. Her nails on his back, his mouth on her neck, her teeth on his lips, his hands on her body. Even the silk sheets they tumble into feel like a pile of sharp nails and red coals ablaze. Ravenous. Unbridled. Rough. Like the overpowering force of two polar opposites crashing into one another. Yin and yang. Order and chaos. Fire and ice. Pain and pleasure. The two sides of the same coin. And, finally, the unbearable tension melts the coin merging its two sides, love and hate, in one single puddle of molten lava.

**Author's Note: **The private detective Brooke hires is named after the lead character in my favourite crime novel The Maltese Falcon which was written by Dashiell Hammett and published 1930. The character is most closely associated with Humphrey Bogart, who played him in the 1941 movie. You may have heard of his famous line: "_The stuff dreams are made of._" While drunk at Tric, Brooke greets Lucas with the words originally written for the 1942 film Casablanca directed by Michael Curtiz. It is, once again, Humphrey Bogart's Rick Blaine who first said: "_Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine_."


	7. A Thousand Fibers Connect Us: Part One

**Author's Note: **What I originally wished to cover with this theme in this chapter ended up being too long, so I decided to separate the story into two. So, we begin with Part One below which focuses on Lucas, with a side of Naley. Part two will focus on Brooke. Enjoy!

* * *

"_We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects."  
~Herman Melville, 19__th__ century American author _

It's a common mistake to bury our connections deep in the dark. Sometimes briefly. Sometimes for good. Instead, we hold on to the belief that detachment protects us from hurt. Prepares us to endure life's trials and challenges. We pretend that solitude brings a kind of hierarchy, a clear structure, a sequence to our lives. It doesn't. The simple truth is that we are all interconnected. Unified. Interlocked. The links that bind us all are inescapable. Infinite. Even quantum science suggests the existence of an omnipresent invisible field of electric and magnetic energy uniting us to one another. There is no happiness for oneself alone, no suffering that afflicts only others. Our thoughts and actions have their effects on more than just us. Even if we fail to see or feel it at the time. Yes, we are free to choose our actions. But, we cannot govern the reach of their consequences. The mechanics of cause and effect is more subtle, yet more complex, than we presume. There's a painful math to solitary. The more we are secluded, the weaker we get. If we wait too long, we may never get the chance to regain our strength. Yet, we keep struggling with what's in our nature. What's basic and primal. Being here and now. Finally deciding to stay instead of running. To say what we should have said a long time ago. To let someone in on whom we really are. To go after what we have always wanted. That elusive shift from separation to oneness. From a lonely _I_ to a stronger _We_.

There was a time when Tree Hill was a perfect example of oneness overcoming separation. Families, friends, lovers...a thousand fibers connecting them with each other. Lucas remembers the stronger _We_. No matter how hard he has tried over the years to pretend solitude gives him much needed comfort. Haley remembers it, too. She knows very well the difference between the days and nights spent alone now and the power of togetherness she once took for granted. But, remembrance of what used to be brings nothing but anguish. So, they keep holding onto the solitude. Knowing full well that the mistake weakens them and binds them to the lonely _I_. Despite the persistent attempts of those trying to convince them otherwise. For Haley, Nathan is one such person. The morning after his promise to always come back, he knocks on Haley's door with two cups of caffé mocha, her favorite.

Nathan: "Haley? You there?"

Surprised by his arrival, she takes a break from cooking breakfast and opens the door.

Haley: "What are you doing here?"

N: "Good morning, Nathan. It's really great to see you. Oh my, how thoughtful of you to bring me that mocha."

Opening the door wider and standing aside so he can come in, Haley smiles and rolls her eyes at a terrible impersonation of her. She holds up one arm and asks for the coffee to be handed over before she lets him over the threshold.

H: "Very thoughtful, indeed. Thank you."

She takes a sip of her mocha and closes the door. When she turns around, she finds Nathan holding a single red rose.

N: "I heard it's best not to come empty handed. And, someone smart once told me roses and chocolates used to be enough."

All of a sudden, Haley can smell the chocolate in her coffee, and she knows she fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book. As she hesitantly takes the rose, she walks around him and towards the kitchen.

H: "The operative word begin _used to_. But, thank you."

Nathan knows winning her back is not as easy as showing up with some beverage and a flower. But, if doing so brings even a temporary smile to her face, it's enough for now. Every little step is progress for someone as desperate as he is to reconnect. Giving up is not an option.

N: "Is that blueberry pancakes I smell?"

H: "You got me. I was hoping to bribe Brooke with pancakes to make her stay. But, she hasn't come down yet."

N: "Does that mean I can have her share?"

A part of her wants to say no. The part that knows staying for breakfast is never as simple as it sounds when it comes to Nathan and her. She sees his rose by the pancake batter, and it reminds her that it doesn't take too much for them to fall back into old habits. Then, she thinks she's being silly for finding something like sharing food so threatening. So, as she hands over a plate of pancakes, she allows him to stay in exchange for information.

H: "Ok. But, you have to first tell me why you're here."

N: "Would you believe me if I said I missed your cooking?"

H: "You're not that good of a liar."

N: "Luke didn't come home last night. I thought maybe he stayed here."

Haley looks around the kitchen and towards her living room to see if she can spot something of Luke's she may have missed when she got home the previous night. She notices that not only there's nothing of Luke's, but also that Brooke's purse she brought home from Tric is missing.

H: "No, I don't think so. He went back to Charlotte, didn't he? God, I can kill him."

N: "You think he left? No. He wouldn't do that. Not now."

H: "If he was still the Lucas we knew, our Lucas, I'd agree with you. But, this one...he runs, Nathan. Whenever something, someone, threatens to pull him out of this senseless isolation, he runs. The first chance he gets. We don't know this Lucas."

N: "I'm not sure, Haley. I saw something different in him yesterday. He stayed when he found out about Brandon. He took care of Brooke at the bar. I don't know where he is, but he's still in Tree Hill. I'll bet you $10, if we find Brooke, we'll find Lucas."

H: "You're on."

Haley quickly walks out of the kitchen and when she reaches the bottom of the staircase, she looks back for a second.

H: "Well, are you coming?"

Torn between following her and the delicious pancakes in front of him, Nathan frowns.

N: "Can I just eat first?"

Seeing that Haley's already out of sight, Nathan takes one last bite and gets up to follow her.

N: "Guess not. Damn it, Luke."

When her knocks on the door of the guest room go unanswered, Haley opens the door quietly but with curiosity. What she sees is a room in disarray: the spread and pillows thrown off the bed, a broken lamp by the window, shattered glass from a picture frame by the nightstand. She can see a pair of man's shoes and clothing scattered across the floor. She kneels down to pick up from among a bunch of green buttons, what she thinks is the black belt Brooke had been wearing the day before. As she takes a few steps closer to the bed, Nathan enters the room calling for her.

N: "Haley?"

H: "Shhh..."

Nathan comes closer only to see a naked Lucas fast asleep, alone, in what is supposedly Brooke's bed, and Haley with an open mouth and wide eyes. Turning around to face Nathan, Haley holds up a hand with her thumb pointed behind her.

H: "Well, we found yours."

Then she holds up the belt she found on the floor, and her face gets angrier.

H: "Now, where's mine?"

As she walks out the room, her disapproval is very clear.

H: "Can you please tell him to put some pants on before coming down? I really don't want him naked when I kill him."

Nathan looks after her wondering if he should follow and try to calm her down. But, deciding he needs answers himself, he walks over to the bed to wake Lucas up first. Pulling the sheet over his naked brother sleeping face down, he shakes him by the shoulder.

N: "Luke, wake up. Hey man, come on. Wake up!"

Lucas Scott hasn't slept for more than a few hours a night for sixteen years, six months and thirteen days. It's not because he hasn't found a comfortable bed or because his mind is too busy with ideas keeping him awake. He doesn't have an illness that can easily be cured by modern medicine. There's no prescription for his insomnia. He knows, because he's tried them all. For the past six thousand and thirty-six nights, the same nightmare wakes him up. He's back in his old room in his mother's house in Tree Hill. Sometimes he's seventeen years old, sometimes he's seventy. But, it's the same girl he loves he's fighting with. Her tears are the same, the disappointment in her face as real as if it happens all over again every night. Sometimes she walks out the door and when he runs after her, she's either too fast, his legs are chained to the door, or someone invisible holds him back. Sometimes she just vaporizes into thin air right before his eyes and when he reaches for her, all he feels is cold air. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. The silence suffocates him. The walls start collapsing. One by one, every piece of furniture in his room start floating and encircling him at such speed that he becomes the center of a tornado of his own making. No escape. His heart pounds against his ribcage with such force that he can't contain it within his chest. That's how it always ends. The tornado passes taking his heart away with it, and he lies lifeless on the floor of a smashed room.

For the first time in one hundred and forty-four thousand, eight hundred and sixty-four hours, Lucas Scott did not wake up once for an entire night. Not one nightmare. Uninterrupted, peaceful sleep for twelve hours straight. As he wakes up to his brother's voice now, he's reminded that sometimes the impossible is possible. That all we need might just be the one connection, the single fiber among the thousands, the specific shift...at the right time...at the right place...with the right person.

Before he can pay attention to Nathan, he wants to make sure Brooke is ok. Turning to his right, he finds her side of the bed empty. She's gone. He's alone. A part of him thinks he should have expected this. He's all too familiar with the flight reflex. It's the best weapon those choosing to live in solitude have ever owned.

Lucas: "Nathan, where's Brooke?"

Nathan laughs at the fact that his brother seems as clueless as the rest of them.

N: "I was hoping you could tell me. What the hell happened last night?"

Slowly sitting up, Lucas realizes he's naked under the sheets.

L: "Can we just talk about this later? A little privacy, so I can get dressed?"

Nathan leaves the room and shuts the door behind him, but not before warning his brother against what awaits him downstairs.

N: "Better put on something bulletproof. Haley's probably loading the gun right about now."

Now alone in the room, Lucas's eyes turn to the empty right side of the bed and his fingers reach out tracing an invisible line where Brooke used to lie. He closes his eyes and flashes of the previous night flood in. Brooke yelling at him..._I've never hated anyone more_...pinning her against the wall to stop her from attacking him...close enough to smell the jasmine in her hair, to see the fire in her eyes, to feel her heart beating so fast that her chest rises and falls against his. He shakes the memories out of his head, opens his eyes, and gets out of bed. As he walks to the bathroom, his fingers go for his bottom lip where he feels a sharp pain. The bathroom mirror shows him that the pain is from a fresh cut covered by some dry blood. When he turns to reach for a towel, his reflection reveals a few fingernail marks on his back. _Go to hell_. His hands find the counter and he holds on tight letting his head drop. There's only one thing to do, take a shower. But, you can't wash away the memories. The taste of her lips kissing him back biting his bottom lip...the sound of her gasp while her head falls back giving him access to her neck...the sight of his fingers against her shoulders pushing her bra strap down...the feel of her burning skin against his cold hands pulling her down onto the bed. No, the memories don't care how hot the water is or how long you stand under it.

When he finally comes down the stairs, he can hear Nathan and Haley playfully arguing about a bet.

Nathan: "What? You're really not going to pay up?"

Haley: "Well, was she there? No. So I win."

N: "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. You're claiming victory due to some technicality?"

H: "The bet was, we find Brooke, we find Lucas. We didn't find Brooke. Pay up."

N: "Did we or did we not find him in her room? In her bed? Naked, might I add, but that's beside the point. Actually it is the point. It tells me that if we had checked in on them a few hours ago, we would have found Brooke in there with him. Therefore, I win. I accept cash."

H: "You're not getting a dime."

N: "Well, I'm open to other forms of payment."

Lucas: "I'm so glad my life is a source of entertainment for you both. A bet? Really?"

At first sight of Lucas, Haley picks up a wooden spoon off the kitchen counter and throws it at him.

H: "You stupid, stupid little boy. You couldn't control your hormones for one night?"

Lucas ducks out of reflex, but the spoon never makes it far enough to reach him anyway.

L: "Hales, I really don't want to talk to you about this."

Getting annoyed that Lucas is about to walk out like nothing ever happened, Haley can't contain her anger.

H: "Oh did you hear that Nathan? He doesn't want to talk to us about it. Yeah, that's too bad, Luke. Do you know the last time Brooke was in Tree Hill? Actually, you do. You were there. It's been almost seventeen years. She came home, Luke. I had my friend back. And you, you had Brooke back. Your son back. And you go and do...whatever you did last night, and now she's gone. Again. I hope it was worth it."

Unable to control his reaction, Lucas responds to the yelling with some of his own.

L: "I didn't make her leave any more than I made her stay last night. No one can make Brooke do something she doesn't want to do. You know that. Do you think I wanted her gone? Do you think I wanted to wake up alone? God, Haley, do you want to blame me for the sun coming up this morning too?"

Nathan just sits at the kitchen counter watching the two best friends, maybe ex-best friends, like he's at a tennis match. He knows this won't last long. They get mad, raise their voices, throw things, say things they don't even mean...then, take a deep breath, sigh, calm down, and sit down to share a plate of pancakes. As if they weren't almost at each other's throats a minute ago.

L: "Not bad. Might need some more blueberries."

H: "Shut up and eat."

For the next few minutes, that's exactly what they do...sit at the kitchen table and eat breakfast, quietly.

H: "Have you called her?"

L: "I don't even have her number."

Nathan can't help but laugh at that revelation.

N: "Oh, did the big brother get played? Use him and leave him."

Haley hits Nathan's arm with the back of her hand and he pulls back in pain.

H: "Nathan! It's not funny."

N: "Ouch! It's a little funny. I mean they don't see each other for almost two decades and this is what happens?"

H: "Ignore him, Luke. I usually do. Seriously, call her. I'll give you her number."

L: "Haley, I don't think she wants to hear from me."

H: "Trust me. She does. And if she doesn't, she can always not pick up."

They return to the pancakes for a few more minutes of silence which is too much for Nathan whose curiosity gets the better of him.

N: "What are you going to do about Brandon?"

L: "I don't know. I think I need to follow Brooke's lead on this one."

H: "What about the emancipation?"

L: "You know about that?"

H: "Yes. He showed Karen the papers when he showed up."

N: "Brandon wants to be emancipated?"

L: "Yes. Brooke and I...we signed the papers yesterday."

Haley puts her fork down and just stares at him in disbelief.

H: "Why would you do that?"

L: "Haley, you weren't there. It didn't feel like we had any choice. There's so much hurt and anger in him. Signing those papers seemed to be the only thing to alleviate some of that pain."

H: "I think that was a mistake, Luke. What we read in that newspaper yesterday...this kid had a tough life. He needs you. Both of you. And, you need him, too. Letting him go is a big mistake. And, I know for a fact it's not what Brooke wants."

Haley regrets her last comment as soon as she realizes she said it.

L: "She told you that?"

H: "I shouldn't have said that. I don't want to get in the middle of you two. Just talk to her. That is if you can keep your hands to yourself for two seconds."

Nathan and Lucas look at each other, and before they all go back to eating, Nathan takes one last shot.

N: "Yeah, you're never living that one down."

H: "Are you going to the hearing?"

L: "What do you mean?"

H: "The emancipation hearing. Are you going?"

N: "The court must have sent you a summons. When I filed, Dan and mom both got served. The court notifies the parents in case they want to show up for the hearing. If Brandon got you to sign his petition, it means the court knows about you."

L: "Wait, are you saying that if I want to find him, all I have to do is go through my mail?"

N: "Yeah. He's turning 16 soon, right? If he's anything like I was, his court date must be very soon."

Leaning back in his chair, Lucas starts to think that maybe fate is offering him an opportunity to leave the lonely _I_ behind. Maybe it's instinct that kicks in or the push of a second chance, but he gets up quickly and starts walking towards the door.

H: "Where are you going?"

L: "There's something I have to do."

H: "Wait."

Haley grabs a piece of paper, scribbles something, and hands it over to Lucas. When he looks down, he sees that it's Brooke's cell phone number.

L: "Thanks."

He turns to leave again, but halfway out the door he turns around.

L: "Be kind to each other, will you? What you have...it's rare. And, it's still there. I see it. You see it too. Life isn't half as much fun if you have to live it alone. I should know. For one thing, you couldn't bet on other people's sex lives all by yourself."

Nathan and Haley watch Lucas leave and look at each other for an awkward moment. It doesn't last very long. Haley smiles and walks over to the kitchen cabinet. She takes out a tall glass and fills it halfway with water. Putting the rose in the glass, she grabs her purse as she walks back to the table and sits next to Nathan. She places the glass with the rose on the table and takes out her wallet from her purse. Pulling out a ten dollar bill, she slides it over to Nathan.

H: "Double or nothing?"

N: "Really? Whose sex life are we betting on this time?"

Knowing full well the implication, Haley blushes and looks away.

H: "No sex, a little tamer this time."

N: "You're no fun."

H: "I bet you $20 that the next time we see Lucas, Brandon's with him."

N: "I wouldn't take that bet if my life depended on it."

H: "Keep your money then. Invest it well, because next time, I'm coming for all you're worth."

Nathan smiles at her _next time_ comment. Any sign of Haley coming out of her shell and warming up to him is pleasant news. Even if he has to lose all his worth to make it happen. While Nathan and Haley finish their breakfast together, Lucas picks up a bouquet of flowers and ends up at the cemetery. Placing the white lilies on top of the tombstone, he sits down on the grass next to the grave.

Lucas: "Hi, Keith. You didn't think I'd leave without seeing you, did you? I owe you an apology. More than one, really. I'm sorry it's been too long since I came to see you. I keep disappointing you. I don't mean to. I know I should be there more for Lily, help her, tell her all about you. And, I try. But, it's not enough. It's never enough. I saw mom yesterday. We fought again, but that's not news. It's all we've done since...you know when. She misses you so much. I miss you, too. Sometimes I think how different everything would be if only you were here. It's not fair, you know? The loss...there's too much of it, all around us. Deep inside me. It never really goes away. But sometimes, there's hope. Keith, I came to tell you something. Remember what I told you all those years ago about what I did? What I couldn't stop? Or take back? Remember the nightmares? I was wrong, Keith. All this time. It seems some losses are not really as they seem. I have a son. But, you probably already knew that, right? I just met him. I have a 16 year-old son named Brandon and I only just met him yesterday. He's angry. Sad. So much attitude that it's infuriating. Smokes like a chimney. But, he's smart, sure of himself. He reads. The truth is that I have a son and I don't really know him at all. All I know is that he's in trouble, Keith. And, I'm not sure how I can help him. If you were here, you'd know exactly what to do, and everything would be ok. So, tell me. What should I do, Keith?"

Lucas is startled by a hand on his shoulder and when he looks up he sees his mother.

Karen: "Do you mind if I join you?"

Lucas shakes his head and motions with his hand for Karen to sit by him.

L: "How long have you been standing there?"

K: "Long enough. It's not just you, you know? I come here to talk to him, to ask him for advice. My brain knows he's not going to talk back or tell me what to do, but somehow when I leave, I feel lighter. Like he just told me the answer to all my questions. Every single time. But, Lucas...your question...you don't need Keith to tell you what you should do. You already know the answer to that one."

L: "It'll be the hardest thing I've ever had to do. What if he won't let me? What if I can't do it?"

K: "I know you can. Lily and I...we'll help you. Besides, you think you were easy? Lily? God, no. Nothing worth anything has ever come easy. Bring him home, Lucas. It's time."

Karen puts her arm around her son's shoulders and Lucas places his head on her mom's shoulder. They sit there both staring at Keith's tombstone in silence for a few minutes. The simple truth is that they are family. Regardless of the years apart or the bitter fights. Interconnected. There's no happiness for one without the other, no suffering that afflicts only one of them. The consequences of one's actions reach the other. And, being here and now, together, they both find comfort in the stronger _We_. When Lucas finally parts from her and gets up, he smiles at the fact that his mother had been right. He feels lighter...like he knows the answer to all his questions. Telling her he'll be in touch, he gives Karen a goodbye hug and walks over to his car. Reaching into his pocket, he takes out the piece of paper Haley gave him and dials Brooke's number. After a couple of rings, the line goes to voicemail.

L: "Brooke, it's me. Please call me. We have to talk."

Getting hurriedly in his car, Lucas drives non-stop for the next four hours to his destination: his apartment over the garage in Charlotte. More specifically, to the box on his kitchen counter where his girlfriend Lindsay keeps the mail addressed to him. The mail that he never really opens. But, now, that's all he can think about. Because somewhere in that pile of old envelopes is the inescapable link that binds him to his son. A man on a mission. Determined. Maybe for the first time in longer than he can remember, he wants tomorrow to be different than yesterday. He wants the solitude to end. To let what's in his nature to take hold. Deciding to stay instead of running. To say what he should have said a long time ago. To let someone in on who he really is. To go after what he has always wanted. And, finally achieve that elusive shift from separation to oneness.


	8. A Thousand Fibers Connect Us: Part Two

"_We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects."  
~Herman Melville, 19__th__ century American author _

Brooke Davis can't remember the last time she woke up with such a throbbing headache. It's not like she never drinks. But, it's usually champagne. Top shelf. Never the hard or the cheap stuff. Never more than a couple of glasses. As she tries to open her too heavy eyelids, she can taste the tequila in her mouth. Downing one shot after another flashes before her eyes. The rays from the barely rising sun peer through the window. They shine the brightest spotlight on the strange bed she's waking up in. Brutal. Unforgiving. She's naked, and not alone. The first thing she sees is strands of blond hair on the pillow next to her. She knows who the hair belongs to. Her eyes fall down on the muscular back with fingernail marks. She knows the damage was done by her nails. She wasn't drunk enough not to remember who lies beside her. Not to remember what they did. A part of her wishes she was. So, she can find a cause...chalk this whole thing up to one intoxicated night. And the effect...one big mistake they can pretend never happened. The all-too-familiar flight reflex kicks in. No good can come out of staying. She doesn't even think she has the words for what may come next if she has to face him. So, she slowly sneaks out of bed and puts on first her underwear, and then, her dress. The buttons scattered across the floor tell her that struggling with the back of her dress is futile. Grabbing her high heels, she quietly leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Leaning her back against the door and still holding onto the knob, she closes her eyes for a moment, and memories of the previous night come flooding in. Standing soaking wet in the shower..._It's too late_...yelling at him..._You ruined us_...attacking him, more than once..._I hate you_.

She opens her eyes and shakes her head. All she wants to do is to get out of that house, that instant. Tip toeing down the staircase, she prays that Haley is not awake. When the only thing she sees in her way to the door is the purse she had left at Haley's office, she's thankful for friends who are kind enough to pick up after her. Grabbing her purse off the kitchen counter, she hurries out the door, and hails a taxi. Looking out the window of the car towards Haley's house, she knows running doesn't fix anything. She can evade reality all she wants, but it happens regardless. She knows that she can't escape the infinite links that bind her to this place, to him. That she was stronger in the _We _last night than she is right now in the lonely _I_. But being here and now is too hard, too painful, so she has no choice but to make that mistake, to struggle with what's in her nature. She tells the taxi driver to take her to the airport and calls the pilot to prepare the jet. While Lucas wakes up alone wondering where Brooke is, she's already up in the air approaching the sky over New York City.

Brooke spends the hour and a half of flight time aimlessly looking out the window of the plane at the clouds, pacing back and forth enough times to worry the flight attendant, and drinking water non-stop to hydrate her hangover away. All so she doesn't have to think about what she did and what it all means. When they land, the company car takes her to her apartment on the Upper East Side. Brooke Davis lives in a luxurious three bedroom penthouse overlooking Central Park. She never really cared about where she lives, but this apartment was the first big thing she bought with the money she earned so it has a special place in her heart. There's a natural warmth to the place. Maybe it's the floor to ceiling windows letting in the sunlight. The space is open, flowing. Brooke even decorated it herself. Earth tones, wood furniture, a large comfortable crimson sofa in the living room and Impressionist paintings on the walls. There are only a few framed pictures around. One of Rachel and Brooke grinning from ear to ear outside of the first Clothes Over Bros store in Manhattan. Another of Jamie and Haley lying down next to her on the grass in Central Park about a year ago. An old black and white photo of her parents on their wedding day. And finally, one of a teenage Brooke and Rachel barefoot on the beach. The unsuspecting eye cannot tell, but it's the only picture of Brooke when she was pregnant with Brandon. There's one silver frame barely visible among the books, magazines, and drawings in the bookcase. Brooke bought that frame many years ago, and has kept it empty ever since. It's meant for only one person, her son. She doesn't know if it'll ever get used. In her dining room, there's a solid oak table that can seat fourteen. She always thought she was foolish when she bought it. She's not the type to host a big thanksgiving dinner for friends and family. There's a 20'x20' walk-in closet in her bedroom, full of mainly her own designs. It was Rachel's idea to build it in. She even managed the construction crew. When it was finished, she told Brooke, proudly, that she had them build in a secret compartment and that she was handing her the only key. She knows Rachel has a copy. But then, she's the only one Brooke doesn't mind knowing what she keeps in there. Her diaries...all eighty-two of them...all addressed to the son she gave up. She's been writing since the day she decided on the adoption. When Brooke is at home, she mostly spends her time in her bedroom, writing in those diaries…about her life, the way it is and the way she wishes it was. She writes about whom she really is and not the Brooke others get to see. She writes about her hopes and dreams for him.

Today, her first stop is that walk-in closet where she takes off the torn green dress, followed by the marble shower in her bathroom. Once she closes her eyes under the running hot water, it becomes too hard to push the memories out. The sight of his muscular arms pinning her against the wall...the force of his lips on hers and his tongue against hers...the feel of her small hands pressed against his abs pulling his shirt up...the touch of his rough, cold hands grabbing her waist...her nails digging into his shoulder blades. No, the memories don't care how hot the water is or how long you stand under it. She wraps herself in a towel, wipes the fogged up mirror with one hand, and goes through her daily ritual. She dries her hair and pulls it up in a loose bun, puts lotion on her body and applies light make up. Flawless. When she leaves the bathroom to get dressed, she makes sure to grab one of her silk Hermes scarves to cover his mark on her neck. As if nothing happened. Maybe it's any other day. Just like she's in an out of body experience.

There's only one place Brooke Davis goes when she needs to escape: the office. It's the only place where she can shut out the world. But today, she has to make one more stop before she can find solace in her safe place. Now she stands outside the door, ready to knock. She knows how the conversation will begin but she has no idea how it will end. She just knows she has to have it. Now. She has to tell her boyfriend, Kyle, the truth. So, she knocks on his door and rings the bell. After a minute, a confused Kyle opens the door.

Kyle: "Brooke, did you lose your key?"

Brooke: "Hi. No, the key...I wasn't sure if you'd still want me to use it."

Grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her inside, Kyle greets Brooke with a quick peck on the lips. Brooke has had a key to Kyle's loft in Tribeca for about a year. It was a part of his first anniversary gift along with a trip for two to St. Lucia. Brooke kept postponing the trip, so they still have two unused return tickets in a drawer somewhere. She spends the night at his loft so rarely that the key was used probably once or twice in twelve months of possession. This time, her hesitation stems from the fact that he may no longer want the woman who ran out of town the second he proposed to use a key given in good faith. Not to mention the fact that she hasn't picked up any of his seven phone calls or returned any of his three voicemails over the barely thirty-six hours she's been gone. But, Kyle is the same understanding guy he's always been. Maybe too understanding.

K: "Don't be silly. It's your key."

B: "Are you all right? I got your voicemail that said you were working from home today."

Kyle Crawford is the general counsel at Brooke's company. They met when she interviewed him for the job almost three years ago. For about a year, Brooke resisted Kyle's advances, citing a list of ethical reasons against a relationship with a colleague. But, somehow he wore down all her defenses. It's not exactly passionate love that keeps them together. At least, not hers for him. But, it's deep affection. A very strong friendship and admiration. Complete trust and respect. Besides Rachel and Haley, Kyle is the only other person Brooke can call a true friend. He is a thirty-six year old, tall, dark, handsome man. He mostly wears expensive suits. Today is no exception. He had always been destined to become a lawyer. Like he had a birth right to graduate from Harvard Law School. He comes from New England old money. The kind that sends young boys to boarding schools and can trace its genealogy to royalty in Scotland. His trust fund guarantees that he never has to work a day in his entire life, but he's just as bad a workaholic as Brooke, if not worse. His life is about order, structure, rules, and hierarchy. Maybe, that's what attracted Brooke to him. With each other, they can have a relationship that is always under control. Together, they can carefully draft and revise every clause in this contract between them.

K: "No, I'm fine. I just have to fly to California to take care of a supplier contract in a couple of hours and I've been on the phone all morning, so this was just easier. Are you all right? Where have you been?"

Pulling the Bluetooth out of his ear, Kyle walks towards the kitchen as he asks the question. When he realizes Brooke isn't following him, he turns back and grabs her hand leading her into the kitchen. He pours two cups of coffee and hands one to her. When a nervous and almost trembling Brooke doesn't speak, he starts getting worried.

K: "Brooke, are you ok? Did something happen? Talk to me."

She takes a sip of the coffee, and finally looks up to him.

B: "I'm sorry for leaving you that night. I had to go."

He smiles at her and hopes that it puts her at ease.

K: "I know. It's ok. You're back now."

B: "Kyle, I have to tell you something."

He walks around the kitchen counter and takes a seat on the tall bar chair next to Brooke.

K: "Ok. You know you can tell me anything."

Brooke looks down and hesitates for a moment. But, she knows this is one reality she cannot evade. If she is to do what she wants and go after her son, she has to tell Kyle about probably the most painful part of her past. Even if it means he never wants to see her again. Even if it means she loses a good friend in the process.

B: "It was Haley who called me that night. I know you've never met her, but I've told you about her a few times. Jamie's mom?"

K: "Yes, I remember. Is everything ok with Jamie?"

When Haley and Jamie visited her in New York about a year ago, Jamie surprised Brooke in her office while Haley went shopping. That's when Kyle met Jamie. They got along pretty well for such a brief encounter. Jamie suggested they all go out to dinner together that night, but Brooke wasn't ready for Kyle to meet them yet. She's not sure if she'll ever be ready for that.

B: "Yes, he's fine. He wasn't there. He's away at a basketball camp for the summer."

Noticing that it's taking forever for Brooke to spit out what she's come there to tell him, Kyle tries to focus the conversation.

K: "Ok. So, what did Haley want?"

B: "Jamie wasn't there, but somebody else was."

K: "Who?"

Brooke gets up from her chair and with one hand on her hip and another on her forehead, starts to pace back and forth in the kitchen.

B: "I'm doing a terrible job explaining this. Ok. Here it is. The truth. As clear as I can tell it."

Brooke stops a few feet in front of him and looks directly into his eyes.

B: "I have a son. His name is Brandon, and he's sixteen. Haley called me that night to tell me Brandon was in Tree Hill. That's where I was yesterday, meeting my son for the first time."

A shocked Kyle simply repeats what he just heard.

K: "You have a son?"

Looking for a meaning in his eyes, an anxious Brooke simply confirms.

B: "Yes."

K: "You haven't seen him in sixteen years?"

B: "Yes. I gave him up for adoption when he was born."

When a silent Kyle just stares at her in disbelief, Brooke panics. She starts pacing again. She doesn't even look at Kyle while she tries to explain.

B: "God, you must think so little of me. How can a mother give up her own flesh and blood? I was barely eighteen, Kyle. With nothing, no one. I did what I thought was the best for him."

K: "Who's the father?"

The question stops Brooke, and she turns around to face him.

B: "What?"

K: "Who's the boy's father, Brooke?"

B: "My high school boyfriend. He wasn't in the picture."

K: "What's his name?"

B: "Why does it matter?"

K: "What's the name, Brooke?"

B: "Lucas."

Hearing the name makes him close his eyes and drop his chin down. Kyle knows the name. He heard it in a conversation with Rachel when he first started dating Brooke. Rachel was warning him not to hurt Brooke and the name just slipped. _If you turn out to be another Lucas, I swear on these Prada heels that I will cut your balls off while you sleep. Who's Lucas? Nobody._ He asked Brooke about her past relationships a couple of times, but it was clear she was never going to tell him. He tried to bring up the topic with Rachel, but was shut down every time. This new information was the missing piece of the puzzle, revealing exactly why Brooke has been so tight lipped about the past. When he opens his eyes, he smiles and holds a hand out for Brooke.

K: "Come here."

Sitting back down on the chair next to Kyle, Brooke is worried what he might say next.

K: "I'm sorry you had to go through that. It explains a lot about you actually. The strong, compassionate, and caring you who had to grow up way too fast. I wish I knew you then, so I could have been there to help you."

That is definitely not what she expected. He should be mad that she lied to him their entire relationship, kept a huge part of who she is from him. She feels like he should be yelling and she should be apologizing. But, then she remembers that this is the same understanding Kyle he has always been. A true friend, before anything else.

B: "I should have told you before. I never meant to lie to you."

K: "I know why you didn't tell me. You thought it was in your past. But it isn't, is it?"

B: "No."

Brooke reaches inside her purse and takes out the black velvet box containing the engagement ring Kyle gave her two nights ago. Placing the box on the kitchen counter, she slides it a few inches over to him.

B: "I'm not the Brooke you wanted to marry. You should have this back."

Kyle takes the box in his hand and it remains out of sight under his palm. While he questions Brooke, he keeps his eyes locked on his hand as if he can see through to the ring box.

K: "What do you know about him? Brandon, was it?"

B: "He lives in Raleigh, North Carolina. His adoptive parents died three years ago in a car accident and he's been in foster care ever since. I hired a private detective agency to find out more. I haven't checked my email yet, but they should have sent me a file on him by now. Kyle, he's filing for emancipation. That's actually why he was in Tree Hill. He wanted us to sign his petition."

K: "You and Lucas. So, you saw him too?"

B: "Yes."

Brooke's heart starts beating a little faster. She should say that not only she saw him, but that she also slept with him. She cheated on this wonderful, caring, understanding man before her with the only person in the whole world who infuriates her and drives her mad. But, she doesn't say any of it.

K: "What are you going to do?"

B: "I'm going to find my son. I'm going to fight for him. I want him with me, Kyle. I don't want to let him go again."

Kyle smiles and turns to face Brooke.

K: "Then, you're the same Brooke I wanted to marry."

He releases the hand over the ring box and slides it back over to her.

K: "You should have this back."

Surprised, Brooke looks at the box first, and then, up at Kyle. Before she can say anything, her blackberry starts ringing. She reaches for it, but not recognizing the number, she sends the call to voicemail. Lucas Scott has never had good timing when it comes to Brooke Davis. Especially when he calls from an unknown number from thousands of miles away. When she turns her attention to Kyle, he motions with his hand for her to stop.

K: "Don't say anything. Nothing you told me today changes how I feel about you. I still want to marry you, if you'll have me. But, I know there's a lot going on in your life right now, and you have to focus on your son. And, I will help you. I want to help you. Let's get Brandon back first, then, I'll ask you again."

Without waiting for an answer from Brooke, Kyle places the ring box back in her purse.

K: "Listen, I have to go now. My flight is in less than two hours and you know the city traffic. But, I don't want to leave you like this. You could come with me."

B: "I can't. I really need to figure out where he is and go talk to him."

Nodding his head, Kyle gets up and grabs his suit jacket from the armchair nearby.

K: "Ok, but call me if you learn anything. And, when I'm back, I can help you. We can find some legal loophole to get you what you want. I knew that diploma would come in handy sometime."

Brooke wonders how he does it. There she was, only a few minutes ago, terrified that the bitter truth was finally out, and now, she finds herself smiling, being comforted by the one man who has every right to shut her out. Her smile doesn't last very long when she remembers she didn't tell him the whole truth. Where and with whom she spent the night before. She couldn't. Her hand goes for her neck adjusting the scarf to make sure Lucas's mark remains hidden. She calls for Kyle, who stops pulling his luggage and turns around. She closes in the distance between them and holds with both hands his arms by the elbows.

B: "Thank you. For being you."

He leans down and kisses her briefly.

B: "Have a safe trip."

As he leaves, Kyle asks Brooke to lock the door behind her. She takes out the key from her purse, holds it up, and smiles in agreement. Standing alone in an empty loft now, Brooke thinks of the ring box in her purse. She wonders how we know that the people we let in, the connections we dig up from the dark, are the right ones. The ones that will prepare us for life's trials and challenges, protect us from hurt. Are all the inescapable, infinite links the right ones? What if we pick the wrong place to stay? The wrong time to say what we should have said a long time ago? The wrong person to let in on who we really are? After all, it's not just any _We _that makes us stronger. It's only that single specific union that shifts separation to oneness. Brooke leaves all the doubts behind in the loft when she locks the door, because there's something else, someone else, more important than Kyle or Lucas.

There's a reason why Clothes Over Bros is headquartered in Manhattan. Yes, Brooke spent four years at the city's Fashion Institute of Technology studying design. And, yes, her office building is located on Fifth Avenue, equal distance from probably the biggest Saks and Bloomingdale stores in the nation. But, that's not why. She picked New York City, because it gave her a brand new home once, far away from everything and everyone she ran away from. Lights, sounds, smells, people, streets, life…she doesn't think she could have found a place that inspires her as much every day. As she walks into her building now, it's the first time she finds the city noise deafening and the air suffocating. Like there's somewhere else she's supposed to be. After the elevator ride up to the forty-second floor, her first stop is Rachel's office. She simply leans against the doorframe quietly until Rachel notices her. Finally looking up from her computer, Rachel immediately gets up, walks over, and hugs her tight.

Rachel: "Welcome back, Davis."

34 years-old, 5'7'', 122lbs, single-white-female, red hair, brown eyes, NYU graduate, Chief Operations Officer of Clothes Over Bros, New Yorker. That, in a nutshell, is Rachel V. Gatina. While at college studying business, Rachel worked part-time at Brooke's fledgling start-up company both as a model and a supply chain manager. She was actually Brooke's first employee. And, her most loyal one. Despite their similar backgrounds and wealthy but absentee parents, Brooke and Rachel started off as fierce rivals back in high school. But, no one would believe that now. For over sixteen years, they have been allies, confidants, keeper of each other's secrets, emergency contacts, first line of defense, and best friends…sisters, really. It was a long ago heartbreak that linked them. The kind of heartbreak that makes you drive a limo off a bridge and into the river. The kind of heartbreak that makes you run away from home while ten-weeks pregnant. If there's one inescapable, infinite bond either of them is aware of, it's the one that binds them to each other. In almost all of Brooke's life changing moments, one can find Rachel. In anything Rachel considers a turning point in her life, there's Brooke's advice and support. There is no happiness for one without the other, no suffering that afflicts only one of them. Some may say that Rachel is the only one who knows the real Brooke. Who is close enough to pull her out of the lonely _I_ into the stronger _We_. Even if it's temporarily.

Now parting from their hug , Rachel keeps her hands on Brooke's shoulders.

Rachel: "If you had waited for one more hour to walk through that door, I would have been on my way to Tree Hill. Seriously. I was looking for flights online. No joke."

Smiling, Brooke walks around her friend and sits down on the sofa across from her desk.

Brooke: "I believe you."

Rachel follows and sits next to her.

R: "So?"

B: "I don't know where to start."

R: "You saw him? What's he like? Why was he in Tree Hill? What did he say? What did you do?"

B: "All right, all right…slow down. He's perfect. I mean he's a total mess and he hates me, but he's perfect."

R: "Well, what else did you expect with your genes?"

B: "He's been through so much, Rachel. His life now…it's not what I wanted for him. But, it doesn't matter, because I'm going to change all of that."

R: "What do you mean?"

B: "The Walkers…remember them? We met them at the hospital the day he was born. They passed away three years ago. Car accident."

R: "Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Brooke."

Rachel reaches out to hold Brooke's hand.

B: "He's been in foster care ever since. And, now he wants to be emancipated. That's why he was in Tree Hill. I don't know how, but somehow he found out our names and Karen's address. He asked us to sign his petition."

R: "Sign his petition? What does that mean?"

B: "It means we, as his parents, approve of his request to be emancipated."

R: "What did he do when you refused? Brooke? Tell me you said no."

B: "At first. But, you should have seen the hurt in his eyes. He kept saying we've never given him anything, that this is the only thing he wants. Rachel, I couldn't say no."

Rachel stands up, walks over to her desk and picks up the phone.

R: "Ok, we can fix it."

B: "What are you doing?"

R: "Calling Sam. He'll find him for us. He did it once."

B: "I already did that."

Rachel stops dialling and puts the phone down.

R: "Good girl. And?"

B: "Sam was the one who sent me the article about the Walkers' accident. I haven't checked my email to see what else he found out."

R: "Ok, what are we waiting for? Log on, Davis."

Rachel starts walking towards Brooke's office but when she realizes Brooke isn't following her, she turns around. Brooke just sits on the sofa and looks down on the carpet. Rachel comes back inside and closes the door behind her. She knows Brooke well enough to figure out that there's more to the story than what she's been told so far.

R: "Make it easy on yourself and spill. Now. Do I have to remind you of all the torturous ways I can get information out of you?"

Brooke looks up silently, reaches for the scarf around her neck, and swiftly removes it with one hand. As she exposes the hickey on her neck, she cringes waiting for the inevitable reaction. Rachel first squints her eyes to process what she's being shown, and then, angrily points a finger to the mark in question on her neck.

R: "That had better be from Kyle. Your almost fiancé? Because in this happy place I like to go to in my head, you guys had hot monkey sex making up for the fact that you bailed on the proposal. Don't pull me out of my happy place Brooke, because I won't be responsible for what I might do."

Brooke knows words aren't necessary so she simply shakes her head. As Rachel starts pacing back and forth in her office, she's the perfect mix of irritation and fury.

R: "No, no, no. Not him. No, no, no. Him? Really? Damn it, Davis."

B: "Rachel, please. I'm already freaking out enough for the both of us."

Her curiosity gets the better of her, so she forgets she's supposed to be mad. Only for a split second.

R: "How was it? Don't answer that."

Continuing her pacing, it's like she's thinking out loud as opposed to waiting for answers to her questions.

R: "Why? After all this time? After everything he did?"

B: "I don't know. Ok? One second, I was telling him how much I hate him, and the next, I was kissing him. Tequila was involved. Somewhat."

R: "I can't let you go anywhere alone, can I? Do I have to make all your decisions from now on? No, that won't be enough. I'm going to handcuff you to me for the rest of your life."

B: "That might backfire on us. You know? Handcuffs don't exactly attract what you might call law-abiding, normal men."

Finally stopping, Rachel sits back down next to Brooke.

R: "Do you have a better plan?"

Brooke ties the scarf back around her neck.

B: "Yes. We forget this ever happened. It was a one-time mistake. Never to be repeated. I was drunk. I had just found out about Brandon and the Walkers. I was vulnerable. So was he. It just happened. But, now, we move on."

R: "Can you?"

B: "Yes, because I can't think about that right now. I have to find my son. I have to talk to him. I have to take back that stupid paper I signed. I don't have one single second to waste on Lucas."

R: "What about Kyle?"

B: "I went to see him before I came here. I told him about Brandon. He wants to help me get him back. He still wants to marry me. Can you believe that?"

R: "Yes, actually I can. Did you tell him about Lucas?"

B: "I couldn't. I honestly thought he wouldn't want to have anything to do with me when he found out I lied. I keep underestimating him. When he was so supportive, I just couldn't break his heart. But, I will tell him. Just not right now. Because everything I have, all my energy, needs to be spent on Brandon."

R: "Ok. So, you want some sort of a suspension? I can do that. We ignore this until we figure out what to do about Brandon. But, just you know, I'm filing this one away in a top secret drawer to be reopened soon. Very soon. Now, let's go see what Sam found out."

They walk across the hallway and enter Brooke's office. Turning on her computer and logging into the company network, Brooke opens her email account. There it is. Sam Spade's final report on the Walkers. Her hand fails Brooke, she can't get it to click on the attachment. She simply stares at the screen. When she realizes she won't be able to do it herself, she turns to the one person who's always been there to back her up. Her personal shot of courage. The force that pushes her when it's time to go forward. The hand that holds her back when it's best to remain still.

B: "Rachel, can you read what it says for me? Please?"

R: "Sure."

As they get up to switch seats, Brooke remembers the very first time Rachel gave her life-altering news. The day Lucas and Peyton found her in Myrtle Beach. The day she decided on the adoption.

***  
_**16 Years and 3 Months Ago, Rachel's Beach House, Myrtle Beach**_

Brooke hides nervously behind the door listening to Rachel put on an act for Lucas and Peyton as she tries to convince them to leave.

Rachel: "I don't know what more I can tell you Lucas. That bitch is not here. She never was. And she never will be. You're betting on the wrong girl to hide her. You can wait for as long as your heart desires. But, the skinny blonde has to go. You know what, both of you can come in. Look around. It will all be in vain anyway. No? All right then. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to wash my hair. Later."

Closing the door, Rachel looks at Brooke in relief that they dodged the bullet. Neither can believe how close they came to being discovered.

Brooke: "Both of you can come in? What were you thinking?"

R: "I had to sell it. If I told them to go, they'd want to come in. Ever heard of reverse psychology?"

Rachel realizes she's already lost Brooke who's peeking out the window from behind the curtains at Lucas and Peyton driving away.

R: "They must have followed me from school. I'm sorry. I should have been more careful. Brooke, are you ok?"

B: "Thank you for, you know, for lying."

R: "You're welcome. I think. Now, are you really ok?"

B: "It's not like you hadn't told me they were together."

R: "Yeah, but seeing it first-hand. That's different."

B: "I'm not going to pretend it doesn't hurt. But, I also can't pretend I didn't see it coming. It's why I left. To give him this. What he wants. And, to give this little one, what he deserves. Parents who want and love him."

R: "You've been thinking about the adoption?"

B: "Yes."

R: "And?"

B: "I think it's the best thing for the baby."

R: "Brooke, you'd be an amazing mother. Are you sure about this?"

B: "I have no money. No job. I'm barely 18. No parents to speak of. No support system. Besides you, of course. I have practically nothing to offer him."

R: "That's not true. I know how much you love him. That could be enough."

B: "Don't you see? That's exactly why I'm doing this. It's because I love him that I have to let him go. So he can have a better life than I can give him. I want that for him. More than anything. This is the best thing for him, Rachel. I know it is."

R: "Ok, adoption it is. I can call the agency back. Ask them to bring the files for the potentials?"

B: "The sooner the better."

R: "So, I have something for you. I've been waiting for you to make the decision about the adoption before I told you. I didn't want it to influence your decision."

B: "What is it?"

Rachel takes out an envelope from inside the console drawer and hands it to Brooke, who can't contain her surprise when she reads who it is from.

B: "Fashion Institute of Technology?"

R: "Don't be mad. I applied for you, submitted your designs. I haven't opened the envelope so I don't know if it worked."

Brooke anxiously tears the envelope on its side and takes out the letter.

B: "Dear Brooke Penelope Davis, Congratulations! You have been selected for admission..."

Brooke simply stares at the letter while Rachel screams in joy and jumps up and down. Kneeling down by Brooke, she reaches out to hold Brooke's shoulders with both hands.

R: "This is good news, right?"

B: "You did this? For me? You got me into FIT?"

R: "Yeah well, don't forget us, the little people, when you become a fashion icon."

Brooke hugs her friend. She can't remember the last time anyone has done anything so selfless and incredible for her.

B: "Thank you. Not just for this. Thank you for everything. I couldn't have survived the last few months without you."

R: "You helped me too. With the accident, Cooper. All of it. Davis, you're kind of my only friend."

B: "You're kind of my only friend, too."

R: "What a pair we are. Let's celebrate. Sparkling cider for you, of course. The beach?"

B: "The beach."

The picture in Brooke's penthouse…the one of the pregnant Brooke and a teenage Rachel barefoot on the beach, was taken that day. While they celebrated saying goodbye to the past, securing a future for the baby they both loved, and finally seeing hope in their own tomorrow.

***  
_**Present Day, Brooke's Office, New York City**_

Brooke leaves the memories behind when she hears Rachel call for her.

R: "Brooke, there's a lot of information here, but I think this is the one thing you need to see right away."

She gets up and walks around her desk towards Rachel. Standing over her friend's shoulder, she starts reading the highlighted passage from the file on the computer screen.

_LexisNexis public records search reveals that Brandon Lucas Walker of Raleigh, NC has an active Petition for Emancipation filed with the State of North Carolina, Wake County, General Court of Justice, Special Proceedings, Juvenile Department. On July 1, the Court has mailed Notice and Summons on Hearing on Petition to the biological parents on record: Brooke Penelope Davis (last known address in New York City, NY) and Lucas Eugene Scott (last known address in Tree Hill, NC). Department of Social Services will be representing the State. The Hearing shall take place at the Wake County Court, 316 Fayetteville Street, Raleigh, NC 27602 on Friday, August 1 at 13:00._

B: "What does this mean? The parents on record were sent a notice? No one sent me any such thing!"

R: "Does it really matter? One of your assistants probably signed for you and thought it was junk mail. When was the last time you opened your own mail? Focus, Davis. This tells you exactly where to be on exactly what day and at exactly at what time to fight for your son."

B: "Raleigh courthouse, 1pm, August 1st. Wait, that's tomorrow!"

R: "You may as well live on the company jet. Hopefully the pilot had enough time to refuel."

B: "Pinch me."

R: "No way. You bruise too easily."

B: "Just want to make sure I'm not dreaming."

Smiling, Rachel looks up at Brooke.

R: "It's really happening, Brooke. Now, go get your son back."


	9. Thing with Feathers Perching in the Soul

**Author's Note: **To all my readers from the United States, happy turkey day! Go easy on the gravy and send me leftovers. This chapter's title comes from Emily Dickinson's definition of hope: _the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all._ The court scene at the end is somewhat influenced by the pilot episode of CW's Life Unexpected. But then, so is the original concept of this story. I'm finally introducing Skylar in this chapter and would love to hear what you guys think of her. Depending on your feedback, she can stay behind in Raleigh or pop up in Tree Hill. Personally, I think Brandon needs a friend, but of course that doesn't have to be Skylar.

* * *

"_We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."  
__~ Oscar Wilde, 19th century Irish author _

There are two schools of thought when it comes to hope. One welcomes it as the ultimate desire of something good. A resilient expectation of obtaining that desire. Awake, our souls dream of it. Crave it. Run on it. Even deep in the _gutter_, hope is what makes us look up at the _stars_. What convinces us that the despair of the here and now isn't permanent. That we have the strength to bear today, because tomorrow will be better. The other curses it as the worst of all evils. We call hope a treacherous sham, a universal lie. One continuous deceit slowly tormenting us. Placing us on the path to certain self-destruction. Regardless of which school of thought we belong to, we all have scars left behind by the disappointment of desires unrealized. But, if we just abandon hope all together, does it not mean we end up living in fear? For nothing? And, don't we only find meaning in life, a purpose, when we fight for something? Maybe we need to accept that some dose of fear is everlasting. That occasional disappointment is inevitable. That neither can be unmingled with hope. But, that we desperately need hope as it is the irreplaceable ingredient in finding the power within to stand up. Step out. Try. Live. That the very least we can do to feel alive is to figure out what we hope for. No matter how much we may fear it. Regardless of how far out of reach it seems. Even if we have to fight with all we have to get it. After all, it's better than living for nothing.

It's been a long time since Lucas Scott has hoped for anything. Sometimes, he remembers the days when the fight for something used to fuel him. Days when he had hoped that he would find the girl he loved even if it meant driving to the end of the world. That he would recapture the closeness he used to have with his mother, his brother, his friends. That one day, he would return home and see more than the painful memories at every corner he turned. Maybe find forgiveness. Rebuild trust. Summon up happiness. Then, he gave up. He started believing that hope was just a fraud. A shiny pretense to disguise the bitter truth that tomorrow is no better than today or yesterday. You fail every time. So, why stand up? Step out? Try again? No, Lucas Scott hasn't felt hope take a hold of him in years. Not like it does, once again, that morning. After all, he's getting ready to fight for something…his son.

He leans closer to the bathroom mirror, grabs the razor from next to the sink, and starts to shave. He has to look his best if he wants to win the fight. With every stroke of the blade, he remembers the night before. How he searched for the court summons among his mail piled up in the box on the kitchen counter. How when he was just about to give up, he decided to check the large envelope sent by his mother. Lucas never changed his permanent address on record. He doesn't really stay in one place long enough to consider the new address home. This last stop in Charlotte has been the longest, and it lasted for only three years. He already feels the itch to move on. Every few weeks, Karen sends in bulk the mail she receives in Tree Hill on his behalf. And, there he found it. The court notice telling him exactly when and where to find his son. The first thing he did was to call Brooke. Just like the call before, this one also went unanswered. He didn't even get a chance to leave a full message because his girlfriend, Lindsay, walked in.

He takes a break from shaving and looks at his reflection in the mirror. His thoughts correct themselves: his ex-girlfriend, Lindsay, walked in. Telling lies, however white they may be, require energy. Commitment. You need to not only carefully craft the story you make up, but also remember it well, so you don't trip up down the road. You need to care. Whether it's to protect someone from hurt or so you don't lose something you value. If you are to lie, you need to care. A lot. Sometimes, it's just easier to tell the truth, and let the chips fall where they may. And, that's what Lucas did the night before with Lindsay. It's not that he doesn't care about her. He does. He knows that his current self is not easy to love. Yet, she does. What they have is simple, uncomplicated. And, it works at the very basic level. Two people who keep each other company. But, if they are honest with themselves, they would admit that they are lonely even when lying in each other's arms. That neither hopes for a future, a life, together. They simply go through the motions of the present. So, Lucas decided to tell her the truth. He told her all about the son he just met, showed her the summons that will lead to finding him, and how if he has his way, Brandon will be coming home with him the next day. Unlike Brooke with Kyle, he didn't stop there. He told her about the mother of his son. About the night they shared together.

_Lucas:_ "_I'm sorry I hurt you Lindsay, but I want to be completely honest with you. I don't know what this means, how I feel or what I want. I don't expect you to forgive me or wait for me to figure all this out_._"_

Responding to his words with a short _"it's over_," Lindsay walked out, ending their six-month-old relationship. Halfway out the door, she turned around and asked him not to be home the next afternoon, so she could take her stuff from the apartment. Lucas nodded in agreement. He would be in Raleigh all day anyway. The end of something, however brief it may have lasted, calls for a period of mourning. The length is subjective. It's unique to each of us how long it takes to recall the good and the bad, to dissect our mistakes, draw lessons, close the book, and move on. But, sometimes, life has a different plan. There's something more pressing, more important, we have to attend to and the due mourning must take a back seat. That's what happens to Lucas now. As he splashes water on his clean-shaved face, the hope within him makes him forget everything but what he has to do that day. Life has clear instructions for him that morning. Get dressed. Step out. Drive. Find the courthouse. Go in. Stand up. Try. Fight. Do not leave without Brandon. Live. That's all.

Unbeknownst to Lucas, life has almost identical instructions for Brooke, too. They first take her to a street in a poor Raleigh neighbourhood. She gets out of the taxi and asks the driver to wait for her. Staring at the run-down house before her, she looks down at her hand, at the piece of paper with the address she's looking for…Brandon's foster home. She read in the file the private investigator put together on the Walkers that Brandon has been living at this address for the past three months. The whole flight from New York, she debated with herself whether she should just go directly to the courthouse or come here first. A part of her wants to talk to Brandon, to explain what she wants to do without lawyers or a judge present. Another part of her is so scared how he may react that she doesn't want to reveal her plan giving him time to prepare his objections. Being here, now, she knows she has to go inside. See where he lives, the room he sleeps in, meet the people who take care of him. She wants to know him. And, this is a start. So, she walks past the wire fence and up the steps to the front door. She can hear the television and cries of a baby from inside. She knocks on the door, and after a minute or two, a man in his fifties opens the door.

Man: "You lost?"

Brooke: "Uhm…no, I don't think so. I'm looking for Brandon Walker. Are you Mr. Kerry?"

The man laughs first, and then, stares at her like he's mentally undressing her. Brooke doesn't need the beer can in his hand to know he's drunk; she could smell the alcohol from outside the fence.

Man: "I guess there's a first for everything. No one's ever called me a mister. Kerry, you say? Never heard of him. But, you can call me whatever you want, sugar."

B: "Is Brandon here?"

Man: "So you're into the young ones then. I'm always a few decades too old for something or another."

Giving up, he takes a step back and yells for Brandon. Peeking inside, Brooke sees paint-chipped walls around a small, shabby living room with little furniture. She can smell the mold from the walls and the rotting leftovers from the piles of dirty dishes in the kitchen. There are three children under the age of five watching television on the living room floor, and a girl, maybe about twelve years old, standing in the kitchen by the fridge. An older boy, about fifteen, comes out of one of the two doors in the back and yells that Brandon's not there.

Man: "Where did that weasel disappear to this time?"

Boy: "No idea."

Brooke: "Who does he hang out with? Does he work anywhere? Maybe I could find him at a friend's house or at his job?"

Man: "How should I know? You ask too many questions. Are you from social services?"

Brooke: "No, I'm his…I'm just looking for him."

Man: "Look, this ain't my house. These ain't my kids. I'm just babysitting. Sherry's gone to God knows where. Come back later."

Brooke: "But, wait…"

Before she can stop him, the man closes the door on her face. A long time ago, in a hospital room in Charleston, Brooke poured all her future hopes into one powerful wish: good health, happiness, love, and protection for her son. She remembers it well, because there's nothing else she has hoped for ever since. As she quickly runs away from that house and gets back in the taxi, she can feel one more wound cut open…a brand new scar left behind by the disappointment of her only hope unrealized. But, scars don't faze her. She's used to them. On the contrary, they fuel her. She knows you have to let fear and disappointment in with hope. When you fail, you stand up, and try again. And, again. Because, this one wish is too important to not come true. Yes, Brooke Davis knows exactly what she hopes for. Every day for the past sixteen years, she hoped for the very same thing. And, as she tells the taxi driver to take her to the courthouse, she is ready to fight with all she has to get it.

A very similar determination to fight lives within Brandon as well. Standing at the steps of the Raleigh courthouse, he is looking up at the Corinthian columns. They seem so majestic, so formidable. So intimidating. They are the only thing standing between him and freedom. He is early, by about an hour. He hasn't showed up early, or on time for that matter, for anything in years. But, he couldn't sleep the night before. And, this, right here, is the only place he actually wants to be. In just a matter of hours, he will take back his life. The right to live it as he pleases. On his own. By his rules. Away from a broken home where people get paid to care for him. Yet, still don't. Not to mention the two useless strangers who gave him birth. In just a matter of hours, none of that will matter, because he will be emancipated. Freedom. Finally. When his cell phone starts to ring, he takes it out of his back pocket. Sitting down on the courthouse steps, he looks at his phone and sees that the caller is Skylar.

15 years-old, 5'2'', 105lbs, single-white-female, red hair, green eyes, fellow foster child, Brandon Walker's best friend and his only self-selected family. That, in a nutshell, is Skylar V. Madsen. Her mother was a mildly successful model in New York City until she overdosed when Skylar was only eleven years old. She has never met her father, who is supposedly a famous photographer or a cinematographer. Her mother could never really give a straight answer. After her mother's death, she lived in Raleigh with her grandmother before she succumbed to breast cancer. Those two years were the most normal she remembers ever being...someone to cook her breakfast and drive her to school, good grades, sleepovers at friends' homes, weekly ballet lessons. She hasn't put her ballet shoes on since her grandmother passed away. She's been moving from one foster home to another ever since. She inherited her most prominent feature from her mother: the cinnamon and copper tones in the thick, straight, shoulder-length hair. It's what gives her the nickname Red. She didn't inherit the height gene though. Brandon jokes that she's so tiny that she would easily fit in the palm of his hand. He usually calls her Sky, but when he really wants to piss her off, he invokes her middle name, Vinnifred. He's the only one who knows it. She told him what the V stood for one morning when she realized that he watched over her after a long night of booze and pills.

Yes, Skylar is an addict. Growing up with a mother who was high most of the time, she once promised herself she would never touch that poison. That promise went out the door with one brutal attack that ended her childhood. When she was only 13 years old, Skylar Madsen was raped by her first foster father. She hasn't told anyone this. Not even Brandon. She thinks that she can cover the hurt with heavy eye make-up and short skirts. Block out the pain with days of cutting school. Stop the crying with nights of getting high at nightclubs. Forgetting isn't that easy. Living, even harder. A few months ago, she started dating Vik, a twenty-two year old local lowlife who hooks her up with drugs. The first time she got arrested, she was found in a stolen car with him. She doesn't tell Brandon how far and deep her troubles go. She doesn't want to scare away the one friend who truly cares, her only life line, her rock. The brother who will save her from herself. The only person who convinces her that the despair of the here and now isn't permanent. In just a couple of months when she turns sixteen, she'll follow Brandon's lead and file for emancipation. They plan to run away together. Leave the darkness behind. And, that is the only hope Skylar has to hold onto. No matter how much she fears it. Even if it seems too far out of reach.

Flipping open the phone with excitement, Brandon looks around the plaza to see if he can spot Skylar approaching.

Brandon (Br): "Hey. You here yet?"

Skylar: "Hi. That's why I'm calling. I can't make it."

Br: "What the hell, Vinnifred? It's only the most important day of my life!"

S: "You don't think I want to be there? God, I'd give anything to be anywhere but here right now. But, I can't. I'm sorry."

Br: "What happened?"

S: "The morons grounded me. Of all the days, they pick today to decide to wear the parental suit. Idiots."

Br: "What the hell did you do now?"

S: "Jackass. Why do you always assume I did something?"

Br: "Uhm...I've met you?"

S: "Yeah, well, look who's talking? I know exactly where your bodies are buried too, you know."

Br: "Are you going to tell me what happened? Are you ok?"

S: "Fine. Just great. Except, I got arrested."

Br: "Again? When? For what? Damn it, Sky. I'm going to kill that guy. It's him, isn't it? What kind of bullshit did he pull you into this time?"

S: "Relax. It wasn't him. I swear. It was all my damn fault. There was this lame party while you were gone. I stole some of Vik's stash. You know, to liven it up a bit? It just got all out of control. Cops busted the party. And, of course, found yours truly half passed out with the pills."

Br: "Shit. Why didn't you call me? I would have come for you."

S: "That's exactly why I didn't call you. You had to be wherever the hell you were. You know? Charming the pants off the semen and the egg the only way you know how. Besides it's fine. Night in jail. Nothing I haven't done before. Vik bailed me out. So, you see he's not such a bad guy. They can't prove anything. Sometimes, being a minor works wonders. Now, I just have to lay low for a few days while this being grounded thing blows over."

Brandon knows she's not telling him the whole story. She never does. But, pushing her to do something she doesn't want to do always backfires. Kind of like the time when he punched Vik and forbid her from seeing him. All he can do is hope she figures out she's better than all this. Soon.

Br: "You can't do this forever, Sky. Tell me you know that."

S: "I do. I know that. You do your thing today, and in a few months, I'll be free too. And, everything will be different. You'll see. I'll be different. When we're out. Together. I promise."

They both know it won't be that easy. Emancipation is not the answer to Skylar's troubles. At best, it's just a start. But, that's enough for now. And, maybe if they pretend there's hope, they'll actually find it.

Br: "I'll hold you to that. Look, I gotta go. But, I'm going to see you tonight."

S: "I'm pretty sure grounded means no visitors."

Br: "And, that stopped us when?"

S: "Call me the second that bitch in the robe sets you free."

Br: "You got it. Hey, Sky?"

S: "Yeah?"

Br: "Hang in there, will you? We're so close."

S: "Yeah. Now, go. Good luck."

Putting the phone back in his pocket, Brandon starts walking up the steps, past those majestic columns, and through the door into the courthouse. Inside, he asks for directions to the Juvenile Special Proceedings courtroom. As he walks through the crowded hallways and past the uniformed policemen, an uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu begins to awaken. He can't quite place it. He simply pushes it away, because nothing is going to distract him from his mission today. When he finally finds the courtroom and opens the door, he finds that the court is already in session. He takes a seat in the back and waits for his turn. As soon as his jeans hit the cold wooden chair, the earlier sinking feeling returns. And, the moment the judge's gavel strikes the sound block, he knows exactly why. He's remembering the first time he was in a courtroom like this. He hasn't thought of that moment since that day. Almost two years ago, he sat in a chair, just like this one, and watched in silent rage as a judge, just like the one before him now, sentenced the man who killed his parents to seven years in prison. The value of two human lives in single digit years. He overheard the defense attorney tell his client that there was a high probability of early parole in four years with good behaviour. His parents are gone forever. But, the man who killed them could be free in just four years. That is the day hope died all over again for Brandon Walker. At least that day, Skylar was there holding his hand. Now, there's no one on his side of this cold room to offer a comforting hand. When he hears his name being announced, he is immediately pulled out of memories and into the present. He gets up in a hurry, and takes his place up front.

Court Clerk: "Brandon Lucas Walker vs. the State. Hearing on Petition for Emancipation. Are the parties present?"

Br: "I'm here, your honor. Brandon Walker."

Department of Social Services (DSS): "Mary Clark for Department of Social Services, you honor. I'm Brandon's assigned case worker. I've been with him since he joined the foster care system three years ago."

From across the aisle, Brandon and Mary exchange greetings and smiles. This kind woman in his mid-fifties is really the only adult who has ever cared about what happens to him since his parents died. She's the one who located his birth certificate a few months ago. He wishes she didn't get in trouble for sharing a copy with him. That's how he was able to find his birth parents. He's eternally grateful to her for that, because his petition would not have been as strong without their signatures. What Brandon doesn't know is that Mary had a very different hope when she agreed to help him. Her intention was to be the catalyst for his reunion with his parents. She's been working with foster children long enough to know some never find the right fit. Brandon is one of them. She was willing to risk her job to find out if there was even a small chance that finding his birth parents would give him a brand new start. If she knew that Lucas just walked in the courtroom unnoticed, she would know that some risks are definitely worth taking. Seeing that his son's case is about to be heard, Lucas quietly takes a seat close to the front.

Judge Grant (JG): "All right, Mr. Walker."

Br: "Brandon. Your honor, please call me Brandon."

JG: "Ok, Brandon. You're filing for emancipation. I see you're turning sixteen on August 9, in eight days."

Br: "Yes, your honor."

JG: "Tell me about your plans."

Br: "Plans?"

JG: "What are you going to do about school? Place to say? Work? Money? Health care? Plans, young man. Tell me about your plans."

As Lucas leans forward to hear his answer, Brandon starts fidgeting trying to figure out exactly what answer would get him the result he wishes. He's too worried about what words to pick to notice that Brooke walks in. Seeing that the hearing is already in session, Brooke looks around for a seat. She doesn't recognize Lucas at first. But, before she can sit down, something makes her look back again. He's cut his hair, shaved, and is wearing a dark grey suit. When she sees that he's also wearing a tie, the look becomes more of a double-take with raised eyebrows. She tip toes over, takes the seat right behind him, and leans forward to whisper.

Brooke: "What are you doing here?"

It's Lucas' turn to be surprised. Her voice startles him. But, a part of him knows he should have expected her here. He turns around to face her.

Lucas: "I'm guessing the same thing you are."

He turns back to look at Brandon, but Brooke isn't done with him.

B: "What does that mean?"

Lucas turns back to answer.

L: "If you had picked up your phone or, I don't know, returned one of my many voicemails, you'd know exactly why I'm here. Now, shhh, I want to hear what he has to say."

At first, she's annoyed that he basically told her to shut up, but she knows it's partly her fault for not calling him back. Lucas left her three messages since she sneaked out of Haley's home without a word. The first call came while she was with Kyle. More accurately, while Kyle was giving her back the engagement ring. As usual, Lucas's timing sucks. _"Brooke, it's me. Please call me. We have to talk." _The last thing she wanted to do was to talk about their night, so she intentionally ignored it. The second voicemail only re-affirmed her original intention to pretend he doesn't exist. _"Brooke, it's me again. Please call me back as soon as you get this. It's really important." _At that moment, he dropped the line because he got interrupted by a woman: _"Hey babe, you're back!"_ Brooke got furious for a second that he had a girlfriend, but then remembered she had no right. She doesn't care if he sleeps with a different woman every night. It's not like she can accuse him of cheating. Something about stones and glass houses invalidates that accusation. She simply turned off her cell phone so that she didn't have to deal with him that night. She hasn't checked her voicemail yet, so she still hasn't heard the final message from last night. "_This is classic Brooke. I get it. Go ahead and ignore me. But, one of these days you'll realize I'm not going anywhere. And, you'll have to talk to me. You can try, but you won't be able to ignore me forever. I need to tell you something. I'm about to do something Brooke, and I really need to talk to you about it first. Please call me back. Doesn't matter what hour it is."_ When Brandon starts talking, Brooke shakes the voicemails out of her head and leans forward to listen.

Br: "My plans, ok. Here it is. I will drop out school and get a job. But, I can get my GED. Study at night. School's important."

JG: "Do you have a job lined up?"

Br: "No, not yet. But, I have applications out there. I'm waiting to hear."

JG: "I understand. What about a place of residence?"

Br: "There's this studio downtown. I saw it the other day and it's perfect."

JG: "How will you pay for rent?"

Br: "I have some money saved for the deposit and I'll get a job."

JG: "Brandon, you will need a guarantor or a someone to co-sign your rental agreement. But, that's not even your worst problem. Mrs. Clark, your file states that Brandon has been with thirteen foster homes over the last three years. That's a lot, isn't it?"

DSS: "Yes, your honor. He tends to change homes quite often. For a multitude of reasons."

Br: "You can't put that on me."

JG: "Young man, are you suggesting thirteen different families were unsuitable for you because they each had problems while you were an angel?"

Until that moment, in the short time they've known him, Brooke and Lucas have never seen Brandon speechless, without an answer.

JG: "I'm going to be straight with you, Brandon. I am not granting you emancipation today. You have no income, no home. No tangible plans. I'm not even sure you can cover your court costs. You are hereby returned to the custody of the State. You will go back to live with the last foster family of record, Mr. And Mrs. Kerry."

Before the judge can strike the gavel, declaring it her final verdict, Brooke stands up and loudly objects.

Brooke: "No, you can't do that!"

Hearing Brooke's voice, Brandon turns around and sees both her and Lucas.

Br: "What the hell are you two doing here?"

JG: "Excuse me? Order! Last I checked, this was my courtroom. Who are these people?"

B: "I'm Brandon's mother."

It's Brandon's turn to loudly object, so he turns towards the judge.

Br: "She's not my mother."

Brooke can't deny that hurts. But, there's no time to feel the pain.

B: "Your honor, I don't mean to disrespect you. I'm Brandon's birth mother. Could please hear me out?"

JG: "Mrs. Clark, is this true?"

Unable to hide her excitement over the pleasant surprise of these two arrivals, the case worker hands the judge the file on Brandon with the birth certificate, adoption papers, and basic driver's license information on Brooke and Lucas.

JG: "Brooke Penelope Davis, is that you?"

B: "Yes, your honor."

JG: "And, are you Lucas Eugene Scott?

L: "Yes, I am."

Br: "Wait a second. What is going on here? These people mean nothing to me. Your honor, they both signed my petition."

JG: "I see that, but those signatures are not valid. They were neither witnessed nor notarized."

While Brandon is confused and bewildered, Brooke and Lucas both exhale a sigh of relief at the same time, and a faint smile comes across their faces.

Br: "This cannot be happening."

JG: "Now, Mr. Scott, Ms. Davis...neither of you has a criminal record?"

B: "No."

L: "No, your honor."

JG: "Do you own or rent your place of residence?"

B: "Own."

L: "Rent."

JG: "Your profession?"

B: "I own my company, your honor. I'm the CEO of a fashion label. Steady income."

L: "I work as a mechanic. I don't own the shop, but it's a good living. Your honor."

Br: "I'm sorry. This is a nightmare. Your honor, why exactly are you asking them these questions?"

JG: "Patience, young man. Ms. Davis, you asked the court to hear you. Please, go ahead."

Brooke looks at Brandon first, and then at Lucas, who slowly takes a seat leaving the limelight squarely on her.

B: "Thank you. I know I have no right to ask you this, but I'm going to anyway. Please don't send him back to that house. I was there this morning, and I can't let him live there. Please, your honor."

JG: "What would you have me do, Ms. Davis?"

B: "He can live with me."

It just comes out. She doesn't flinch once. She doesn't need to think about. It's exactly what Brooke wants.

Br: "No way. Judge, I'm fine with foster care."

JG: "Brandon, you need to stay quiet unless you are asked a question. Do you understand that?"

Br: "Yes."

JG: "All right, Ms. Davis, you are not a resident of North Carolina. You live and work in the state of New York, correct?"

B: "Yes."

JG: "I'm afraid I cannot grant custody of a minor to an out-of-state guardian."

All of a sudden that wound cut at the site of Brandon's foster home stings again. Hope unrealized. As Brooke slowly sits down in defeat, it's Lucas's turn to start fighting. So, he stands up decisively.

L: "I live in the State. Let me take him."

Br: "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

JG: "Brandon! Mr. Scott, your driver's license says you live in Tree Hill, North Carolina."

L: "Your honor, I...uhm...actually live in Charlotte."

JG: "Better update your license Mr. Scott. You have an inaccurate address on record, you rent your home. Sounds to me like you don't have a permanent place of residence. You move around often? Change jobs frequently?"

L: "Yes, but that can change."

JG: "Have you ever taken care of a dependent?

L: "No, your honor."

Just like that, Lucas knows he's about to lose the battle. In a few simple questions, this person who doesn't know him at all has decided that he's not fit to be a parent.

JG: "The decision I have to make is to figure out what is in the petitioner's best interest. I see no reasonable cause either emancipation or placement under Mr. Scott's custody results in Mr. Walker's best interest. I have no authority to even consider Ms. Davis as a guardian. Unless anyone has any objections, in light of everything I heard today, I'm denying the petition."

Brooke looks at Lucas the moment she hears _unless anyone has any objections_. It's like her eyes are silently begging for him to have an objection, save the day. Rescue her. Rescue their son. As he searches for anything to say, he feels his heart pound in his chest. He let them down once. A long time ago. He can't do it again. And, when he gets up to speak, he's not sure where he will take it. Maybe, it's best that way. Because, if Lucas Scott had known what he would end up doing, he may have taped his mouth shut. And, if Brooke Davis had known what he would end up suggesting, she may have handed him the tape herself.

L: "Your honor, we haven't told you everything yet. You see, Brooke is moving to North Carolina. Soon. Yes. Very soon. Because...well, because she...we're engaged. Yes, Brooke and I are getting married. Uhm...and, we are moving to...Tree Hill. Yes, we're actually house shopping right now. So, you could grant custody to both of us...and we would live here... in the state and...be living together...married...to each other."

JG: "Ms. Davis, is that true?"

In shock and disbelief, Brooke just stares at Lucas who's nodding his head, telling her to confirm the blatant lie he just told. Just a minute ago, wasn't she the one wishing he would do something, anything, to change the judge's mind? Could this preposterous story be it? It's like there's a knot in her stomach. It travels up her throat and threatens to choke her. She swallows, pushing it down. She looks at Brandon and bites her bottom lip. This is it. This is what she has to do. And, didn't she promise herself she would fight with all she has to get him back? When she looks back at Lucas, he knows what she'll do. He recognizes the determined look. She reaches inside the purse on her lap for Kyle's ring inside the velvet box. Her hand still in the purse, she slips it on the ring finger of her left hand. She slowly stands up, holds her hand up, and shows everyone the diamond ring that screams her engagement.

B: "Yes, your honor."

JG: "Congratulations. Brandon, I'm releasing you into Mr. Scott's temporary custody. I am making this decision on good faith that when Ms. Davis moves to North Carolina, the petition for joint custody will be filed. This case shall be transferred to the County Court at Tree Hill. Department of Social Services will reassess the situation in one month. Let me be clear, Mr. Scott and Ms. Davis, that means a home visit in Tree Hill in thirty days. I expect the report to include your marriage certificate. And of course, details on the life of the newlyweds and your new home. Until a permanent custody decision can be made, these visits will continue on a monthly basis. Young man, you can appeal this decision within ten days after my order is entered. But, I wouldn't suggest it. You have a chance to have a family. Take it. Case is dismissed."

As the judge's gavel hits the sound block marking her final verdict, Brooke and Lucas are left standing motionless, staring at each other in shock. Hope realized. Dream come true. Battle won. But, at what cost exactly? As Brooke turns to her right, she's blinded by the fury in Brandon's eyes. Lucas remains looking at the four karat pink diamond ring on her finger. Clearly not his. That's the thing with hope. Sometimes, it's pure deceit slowly tormenting us. The worst of all evils. A universal lie. And, that fight for something...it never ends.

"_Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope."  
__~Maya Angelou, American poet_


	10. The Fight to the Finish Spirit

"_All endeavor calls for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hour's toil. The fight to the finish spirit is the one characteristic we must possess, if we are to face the future as finishers."  
__~Henry David Thoreau, 19__th__ century American author _

Most of us made a promise once. Hoped for a certain future. Wished upon a star. There's no magic formula to conjure up our heart's desire. Nothing falls from the skies or mysteriously appears out of nowhere. It's a long and winding road to deliverance. Sometimes, it's hard to see the final destination. Just when we think we swam to shore, climbed to the top of the mountain, walked to the end of the forest, the road reveals yet another obstacle. A brand new labyrinth. Some of us give up. Even find ways to be content with coming up short of our ultimate goal. But, at war, winning a few battles early on is no different than absolute defeat. Unmitigated success requires that we never take our eyes off the prize. Not for a single second. So, the determined accept the new challenge. Embrace their _fight to the finish spirit. _Swim across the next river. Climb over the next peak. Walk past the next tree. Yes, at some point, we all tumble down. Get tired. Maybe, take a break. Even curse the roadblocks. But, the _finishers_ follow through. _Endure the last hour's toil_. Because, there's a long-ago promise to be kept. A hope. A wish. And, quitting is not an option.

For Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott, the exhilaration over the judge's custody ruling is too brief. Unable to keep his eyes off Brooke's engagement ring, Lucas finds himself lost in a brand new labyrinth. Being met with pure rage in her son's eyes, Brooke feels the full impact of yet another obstacle she crashes into. First battle won. But, it's clear that there's many more ahead. And, the war is too important to lose. So when their son practically runs out cursing at the wind, they both follow prepared to _fight to the finish_. In the middle of the crowded hallway outside the courtroom, Brandon is no longer able to contain his resentment and loudly lashes out at his parents.

Brandon: "Are you out of your fucking minds?"

Lucas: "Language!"

Br: "You're crazy, right? I feel dirty...like you just threw up your insanity all over me."

L: "You're upset. I get that. But, you cannot talk to us like that."

Br: "You think all the world's your damn stage? It's a stupid little game for you, isn't it? It's my life you're screwing with!"

Brooke: "Listen to me for a second. I can explain this."

Br: "I don't care. I asked you for one simple thing. One thing in my entire life. Leave me alone. Shut the hell up. Let me go. And, you couldn't even do that. I swear. It's like you're creating your own deluded version of the Bermuda triangle and sucking me down to hell. Why don't you try to think, once, about I want? My plans?"

L: "And, what plan is that, Brandon? We all heard you in there. You have no plans."

Br: "How dense are you people? I don't want you in my life. How can I make this any clearer? I. Want. Nothing. To. Do. With. You. Either of you. There's no way I'm moving to a middle of nowhere to go live with you idiots. This has got to be a fucking joke."

Brandon is too angry to stand still, so he starts pacing back and forth in the hallway. Brooke and Lucas look at each other wondering which one of them has the words to convince him. Brooke seems to have more courage. Just a sliver more. So, calmly, she begins pleading with Brandon, who doesn't stop or look at her once during her appeal.

B: "Ok, look. You don't know us, and you have no reason to trust us. And, I know this isn't what you wanted today. But, it doesn't have to be all bad. I want you to live with me. We both do. We want to be here for you. We can make this work. If you let us. If you just give us a chance."

Brandon stops before them, and slowly, his expression changes. Even his shoulders relax down a few inches. He tilts his head slightly to the right, and smiles. Just when Brooke starts to think she's reached that elusive mountaintop, Brandon's words bury her deep under the snow like an unstoppable avalanche.

Br: "A chance? Seriously? You know what? I should thank you. For lying in there. The judge might be stupid enough not to figure out your game right away, but I know better. You can shave all you want. Put on a fancy suit. It doesn't change the fact that you two can't stand each other any more than I can stand being in the same room with you. So, this sham of a marriage you pulled out of your ass has zero chance of actually happening. Thanks to dear old dad here, you're both going to jail for perjury quicker than I can say sayonara to Creep Hill. So, thanks. I'll get what I want after all. And, your asses rotting in jail...well, that'll be my bonus for having to deal with you for thirty days."

With almost a sinister laugh, Brandon starts walking away from them and towards the exit. When Brooke attempts to go after him, Lucas grabs her arm to hold her back.

L: "Wait. Give him a minute to cool down."

Still looking after Brandon, Brooke struggles to free her arm from his hold.

B: "Let me go, Luke. I have to explain."

L: "There's no use talking to him right now, Brooke. He's not seeing reason."

B: "What do you suggest we do? Let him run away? Again?"

L: "No. We'll wait here for a few minutes. Then, we'll go after him."

Unable to spot Brandon in the crowd anymore, Brooke looks over to Lucas and then back at the exit door again. She gradually relaxes her arm and in turn, Lucas lets it go.

B: "He's probably outside, smoking."

L: "Yeah, we have to do something about that."

B: "How about we pick our battles right now?"

Lucas motions with his hand to an empty bench nearby. They sit side by side, in silence, for the next few minutes. It's the first time since walking into the courtroom that either has a chance to really think about the events of the day. Looking down at the marble floor, a nervous Brooke breaks the silence.

B: "Lucas?"

L: "Yes?"

She opens her mouth, but, for a few seconds, no words come out. It's like something is stopping her from following through. Like she's afraid swimming in that particular river will drown her. Walking through that endless forest is useless. When she finally looks up at him, Lucas knows exactly the question she's about to ask.

B: "Did you just propose to me in there?"

L: "Did you just say yes in there?"

He reaches out for her left hand and grazes his thumb over the ring.

L: "Except I don't know to whom you said yes. Whose ring is that, Brooke?"

Yanking her hand away from him, she locks her eyes back on the marble floor.

B: "It's...uhm...I just had it with me. I guess you never know when a ring might come in handy."

L: "Are you telling me you carry that thing in your purse in case someone spontaneously proposes?"

Quickly standing up, Brooke grabs her purse off the bench and starts to walk out.

B: "I don't want to talk about this right now. Can we go find Brandon please?"

L: "All right. Let's go."

Brooke practically runs out with Lucas chasing not far behind. Yes, she's running towards her son. But, also away from the questions that she's not prepared to answer. She's running away from Lucas. It's not the first time. It probably won't be the last either. Making their way through the exit doors, she goes right and he turns left. Calling out his name, they search first the court steps, then the plaza for Brandon. He's nowhere to be found. Breathless from running around the plaza, Lucas walks up to Brooke.

L: "You don't have his number by any chance, do you?"

Brooke shakes her head no while her eyes continue searching the crowd in the plaza for her son.

B: "Damn it. This is so typical. We lost him again."

L: "We didn't lose him. He has to be here somewhere."

B: "No, I bet I know where he is. Where's your car?"

L: "I parked around the block. Why?"

B: "Let's go."

A few minutes later, they're in Lucas's car. A dark green Jeep Wrangler. Brooke hasn't been in the passenger seat of anyone's car in years. She usually travels in company cars driven by chauffeurs as she takes calls or responds to emails from the backseat. In fact, when she rented a car at Tree Hill airport the other day to get to Karen's house, she wasn't sure if she remembered how to drive. After she hands Lucas the address to their destination, she decides to put the radio on. Anything is better than the awkward silence. She can't help but laugh when she finds it broken.

B: "Since when does a mechanic not fix his own car?"

Lucas laughs back.

B: "The mechanic thing...that's not what I expected of you."

L: "You mean unlike how Brooke Davis grew up to be the fashion mogul everyone expected her to be?"

B: "Something like that."

L: "What did you think I'd become, Brooke?"

B: "Writer...I thought you wanted to be a writer."

L: "Yeah, well, not all of us chased our dreams. At least I'm putting everything Keith taught me into good use."

B: "True. I think of him often, you know?"

L: "He's probably laughing his ass off up there, looking at us running around like a pair of crazed headless chickens looking for the son who doesn't want to have anything to do with us."

B: "Speak for yourself. My pretty head is screwed on tight."

Brooke hits his shoulder with the back of her hand. Something sharp pokes his arm and when he looks over, he sees the ring again.

L: "Brooke, are we going to talk about the ring?"

She can see the roof above her head and that the windows are shut tight. But, there it comes. The cold air. And, just when she begins to think that they're over the awkwardness, and that, against all odds, they are sort of getting along peacefully. Even if it's just small talk. She looks down at her hand, to the ring on her finger. There's no use in lying. Sooner or later, he'll find out. And, she has nothing to hide anyway.

B: "It's Kyle's. My boyfriend. He proposed the night Haley called about Brandon. I've had it in my purse since then."

That cold air finds its way to Lucas's side of the car. _My boyfriend...he proposed._ A part of him wants to pull over and ask what the hell she was doing sleeping with him if she was engaged. But, then he realizes that's not exactly what she said.

L: "In your purse, not on your finger. You didn't say yes?"

B: "I didn't get a chance to say anything. Haley's call stopped everything else in my life and I haven't had a chance to take a breath ever since."

L: "Do you love him?"

Lucas regrets the question the moment he utters it. He's not afraid of sounding presumptuous. No, that's not it. He simply doesn't want to know the answer. While he tries to figure out how to rewind time, Brooke tries to hide her shock at the question. After all, women in long-term relationships aren't supposed to struggle finding an answer to such a question. Especially those who carry around an engagement ring. And, it's not like she should feel guilty for moving on. So, why does she feel like there's no right response? Whatever her answer, she loses. Her mind reminds her heart that it's being foolish. Absurd, really. This Brooke Davis is not in love with this Lucas Scott. How can she be? She hasn't seen him in four years, five months and twenty-one days. Even longer by many more years as far as he knows. The right thing to do, the sensible thing, is to pick the least threatening and the safest answer.

B: "Yes."

It's not a lie. Not exactly. But, the truth is subjective. It depends on one's definition of love. There are many ways Brooke can answer that question. All more complicated than her simple yes. And, the moment Lucas hears it, he knows that it's why he wished he hadn't asked. Maybe it's a hint of jealousy. Regret over what could have been. His mind reminds his heart that it's being irrational. Ludicrous, really. Playing a cruel trick rehashing old feelings. This Lucas Scott is not in love with this Brooke Davis. How can he be? He hasn't seen her in four years, five months, and seventeen days. Even longer by many more years as far as she knows. The sane thing to do, the selfless thing, is to be glad she's found someone and wish her well.

L: "Congratulations. I'm happy for you."

Only he knows that he put on a brave face, but the crack in his voice unintentionally reveals the soft spot on his armour.

B: "Thanks. What you said in the courtroom...were you serious?"

L: "Yes. I'll do anything to hold onto Brandon. But, I see now that this complicates things for you and...what was his name?"

B: "Pull over here. That's it."

L: "Here? Are you sure?"

B: "Yes, pull over. That's the house."

Lucas parks the car but before he can get out, Brooke reaches out a hand to stop him from unlocking the door. While she speaks, her hand remains on his arm.

B: "Uhm...how should I say this? Up there...it's not exactly the home I wished for him. It's bad Luke, and you need to be prepared. Small, dirty, poor. There are too many kids. This morning, a drunk old man opened the door."

L: "Drunk?"

B: "Yes. He said he was babysitting for a woman he called Sherry. More like getting wasted watching TV. I don't know what to expect, but we need to see through all that. We need to get Brandon and go. That's all we can focus on right now. Nothing else."

L: "Ok."

B: "Promise me. I don't want you punching people. I'm too little and too old to be breaking up fights."

L: "I promise. Get Brandon and go. That's all."

Brooke nods her head and lets his arm go. She can't remember the last time they worked together towards a common goal. One carried the other across a river, pushed one and another to keep climbing or watched each other's backs while walking in the dark. Brooke Davis hasn't leaned on anyone for anything in years. Not even Rachel. It's a strange feeling to tie your fate to someone else's. The fear of not being in complete control mitigates the comfort in knowing you're not alone. It doesn't help that the man she happens to be leaning on right now has let her down too many times in the past. As Lucas knocks on the same door she did only a few hours ago, Brooke knows they need each other if they are to finish this race. It's as simple as that. When the door finally swings open, a woman in her early-forties appears.

Woman: "Yes? How can I help you?"

L: "Hi ma'am. My name is Lucas Scott and this is Brooke Davis. We're looking for Brandon."

Woman: "What do you want with him?"

B: "Are you Mrs. Kerry?"

Woman: "Who's asking?"

L: "We're Brandon's parents. His birth parents. Is he here?"

The woman steps inside and asks one of the children in the living room about Brandon's whereabouts. When she returns, she almost closes the door on them.

Woman: "He wasn't here when I came home. Next time, try calling first."

B: "Wait! Please. We really need to find him. Any idea where he might be?"

Woman: "What's this about?"

L: "Uhm...we were granted custody of Brandon in court today. We're looking for him so we can take him home."

Woman: "Well, I'll be damned. So, the little bastard isn't my problem anymore? Wait here."

Brooke puts her hand on Lucas's shoulder to not only remind him to remain calm, but also keep him from following the woman inside. While they wait for her to come back, a girl, about twelve years old, approaches them.

Girl: "He's probably with Sky."

B: "Who's that?"

Girl: "Skylar Madsen. They're practically attached at the hip. It's a good bet they're together."

L: "Where can we find this Sky?"

Girl: "She lives about four blocks north, Kenner Street. It's a light blue house with a crazy dog chained outside. You can't miss it. I don't know if they'll be home. But, wherever she is, you'll find him there."

L: "Thank you. You've been a great help."

Girl: "Anything to get him out of this hellhole. Tell him Katie said good luck."

B: "We will. Thanks, Katie."

Before the girl can say anything else, she gets pushed away from the door. The woman shoves a suitcase out the door towards Lucas and she only has a few parting words before she closes the door.

Woman: "Here. This is all his stuff. Take it and get out."

Lucas's fist bangs on the door with such force that Brooke thinks he might punch a hole in it.

L: "Wait, this can't be it."

Brooke grabs his hand away from the door and picks up the suitcase.

B: "Let's go. We have to find him. He'll tell us if there's more. We can come back if we have to. Let's go find this Sky first."

Lucas is too angry to leave, but there's very little he can do from outside a locked door. He looks at the suitcase first, and then, up at a determined Brooke. With one final kick at the door, he starts walking towards his car. They drop Brandon's suitcase in the trunk and start driving north to Kenner Street.

L: "That's where he lives? God, Brooke, we could have..."

B: "Don't go there. Not right now. We have to look forward. Somehow, we have to get him to come with us. Nothing else matters."

L: "How are we going to do that?"

B: "I don't know."

L: "I might have an idea. But, I need you to go along with whatever I say. Ok?"

B: "What are you going to do?"

L: "I'm going to make him a deal. Just back me up."

B: "Ok, but what deal?"

L: "We just have to be patient. We're not going to win him over today no matter what we say. This thing we're doing...it's a marathon, not a sprint."

Spotting the blue house with the dog, Lucas pulls over and parks. He turns to his right and looks at Brooke.

L: "You in?"

B: "Yes."

While Lucas is asking Brooke to have faith in his mystery plan, Brandon is asking Skylar to do the same thing. Katie is right. Her house is exactly where he ran to straight from the courtroom. The entire bus ride to her place, he thought about what came next. And, there's only one answer he could come up with. He climbed up the side of her house to the second floor and sneaked in through the half open window into her bedroom. Her initial surprise was followed by anger when she found out what happened. At the judge. At these two strangers who messed up everything. And, at Brandon, for having to leave her behind. But, that's the thing with Skylar. She's used to disappointment. She's always facing a brand new labyrinth. Always tumbling down, cursing the roadblocks. So, when she remembers that there's no use in crying over broken promises, she calms down and sits on the edge of her bed. Brandon joins her.

Brandon: "I'm not going anywhere."

Skylar: "I don't think you have a choice."

Br: "I can just take off. That's why I'm here. Come with me."

S: "You want me to run away with you?"

Br: "Yes. Now. Before they find me. I don't care what a stupid judge or a piece of paper says. We've practically been living on our own for years already. We can do it."

S: "How? We have no money. No place to go. You want us to live on the streets?"

Brandon gets up, picks up his backpack off the floor, and takes out a bundle of cash from a case inside. He extends his hand out to Skylar so she can see the money.

Br: "This is just shy of a thousand dollars. It'll get us a place to crash. And, food. Until we get a job."

S: "They'll be looking for us."

Br: "We'll lay low for a while. Take the bus across country. Go far away. I don't care. I don't want to leave you."

S: "Are you sure about this?"

He puts the money back in the bag, and the bag back on the floor. Slowly kneeling down by her side, he grabs her hands.

Br: "I've never been more sure about anything in my life. Let's go, Red. You and me...we don't need anything or anyone else. You in?"

S: "Yes."

They smile at each other, sealing the new deal. It's complete trust. Unbreakable bond. A brand new plan. Just the two of them against the world. Free. Skylar quickly stands up and goes over to her closet.

S: "Give me a minute. I have to pack a few things."

Br: "Hurry."

She finds a duffel bag at the back of the closet and throws in some clothes, shoes, a few pictures, her diary, and the contents of her desk drawers. It only takes a minute. Turning around to face him with the bag held close to her chest, she has probably the biggest smile Brandon has ever seen on her face.

S: "I'm ready. Wait, one more thing."

She runs out of her bedroom and enters another room down the hall. When Brandon follows, he sees that it must be her foster parents' bedroom. Going straight for a small metal box on the dresser, she flips it over and some jewellery fall out. She reaches in the box to what seems to be a secret compartment with cash inside. She quickly rolls the bills and throws them in the duffel bag.

S: "They don't think I know where they keep the petty cash. I figure they owe me."

Br: "Let's go."

And, when they run down the stairs and finally open the front door, they step into their new life. Except, that's the very same moment reality hits them. Cold. Hard. The second Brandon steps out onto the porch, he is faced with the nightmare he wanted to escape. Seeing them running out in a hurry with a duffel bag, Brooke and Lucas know exactly what their arrival interrupted. And, they cannot be more glad.

Lucas: "Looks like we're just in time."

Br: "Depends on who you ask. How did you find me?"

Brooke: "Katie told us about your friend."

Br: "Katie? You've been to the house?"

B: "Yes. You disappeared from the courthouse. What were we supposed to do?"

Br: "You were supposed to get the hint. But I see now that I'm dealing with two retards."

L: "That's enough! You want us to listen to you? Respect you? Treat you like an adult? Then, start acting like one. You've been nothing but a rude brat so far."

Br: "Unbelievable. Sky, let's go."

Without looking back, Brandon walks past his parents shoving Lucas back a few feet.

L: "Stay here. Let me go after him."

Skylar isn't sure if his order is meant for her or Brooke, but she's too stunned to move forward anyway. So, both women just stand behind watching Lucas run after Brandon. Skylar drops the duffel bag, and walks over to the bench by the window. Brooke watches as Lucas catches up to Brandon, grabs his arm, and stops him from leaving. She gets frustrated that they are too far away for her to hear what they are saying. Deciding that her time is better spent getting to know her son's best friend instead, she walks towards the bench.

B: "Can I join you?"

S: "I don't bite."

Brooke sits down, and they are silent for a minute or two until Skylar turns to look at her.

S: "You're Brooke Davis."

B: "Yes."

S: "I mean, you're the Brooke Davis. Brandon told me your name but I never made the connection until now. You're like a celebrity. You're rich."

B: "Uhm...I guess I am. You wear my clothes?"

S: "They're a little out of my price range. But, you're good. I mean your clothes. They're beautiful."

B: "Thanks. If you'd like, I can send you a couple of dresses when I go back."

S: "No, thanks. Bribery will get you nowhere. Brandon's got a mind of his own. Don't assume my putting in a good word for you will change anything."

B: "I didn't mean it that way."

S: "It's cool."

B: "How did you guys meet?"

S: "City Hall. Three years ago. The day we both entered the system."

B: "So, this is your foster home?"

S: "Yeah."

B: "What's he like? My son? Tell me about him."

Skylar isn't sure if she should. A part of her wants to yell at this woman for abandoning Brandon. After all, didn't all his heartbreak start the day Brooke let him go? Just as she's about to tear into her for even daring to ask the question, she sees the look in Brooke's eyes. Honest. Caring. Nervous. Scared. Sincere. Worried. Everything a mother is supposed to feel when talking about her long-lost son. So, she finds herself wanting to tell her everything she knows so she can catch up on the years lost. She looks away and clears her throat.

S: "He's...well, he's Brandon. The best person I've ever met. He doesn't judge or get scared easy. He's loyal...always there when you need him. He takes care of you even when you give him every reason to walk away. He's brave. Strong. The tough guy thing...it's just an act. That's how we survive. But, he cares. More than anyone I've ever known. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here today."

B: "Thank you."

S: "For what?"

B: "For loving him. I'm glad that he has someone like you in his life. That he wasn't alone all these years. And, I'm sorry."

S: "Sorry?"

B: "This must feel like you're losing him. I want you to know you're not. You're always welcome in our home. The last thing I want is for you to think I'm taking him away from you. Come visit anytime you want. It's clear you two are family. So, that makes you a part of my family. And, all I want is my family back together."

S: "Brooke?"

B: "Yeah?"

S: "Don't hurt him. He's just as broken as the rest of us."

Brooke reaches out and grabs Skylar's hand. And, in that one brief moment, Skylar wonders if this could be the person to fix Brandon. To make him whole again. To put the million little pieces of his soul back together. And, if there's a small chance Brooke's the one, she knows what she has to do. Step aside. Let him go. Better yet, make him go. Because, he won't go willingly. She sees that Brandon and Lucas are still arguing out there on the road.

S: "What do you think they're talking about down there?"

B: "I think it's time I find out."

Brooke gets up to leave, but before she can take her first step down from the porch, Skylar calls for her. So, she turns around one last time.

S: "Bye Brooke Davis. Take care of him for me."

B: "I will. Bye."

Out of earshot and in the middle of the street by his car, Lucas is arguing with Brandon. Again.

L: "All we did was to get your stuff from the house."

Unlocking the trunk, Lucas shows him the suitcase.

L: "See. That's all."

Grabbing the suitcase from the trunk, Brandon starts to walk away, and Lucas follows.

Br: "You did me a favor. Now, I have everything I need to get away."

L: "You don't want to do that."

Br: "That shows how little you know me."

L: "Fine, but I really don't think you want cops on your tail."

That stops Brandon in his tracks. Lucas stands his ground, arms crossed over his chest. He begins to think he's finally making progress.

Br: "Are you threatening me?"

L: "Just stating a fact. You can run if you want. But, you'll be in direct violation of a court order. I believe FBI gets involved in missing children cases."

Br: "You're something, you know that? What do you want from me?"

L: "I want you to stop and think. For a moment. About what your life on the run would be like. I want you think if it's really better than living with us. I want you to stop being so stubborn and give me a break. I'm trying. Tell me you see that."

Br: "That's your best shot? This is pathetic."

As Brandon starts to leave again, Lucas grabs his arm to hold him back.

L: "Ok, I'll make you a deal."

Br: "What deal?"

That's when Brooke finally joins them.

B: "That's what I'd like to know."

Br: "Oh great, tag team."

L: "One simple deal. Thirty days. You come to live us for thirty days. And, if you still want to leave at the end of the month, I will drive you to the airport myself. I'll give you cash, whatever you need. I'll even stand up for you in court if you still want to be emancipated."

B: "What? Are you crazy?"

L: "Brooke! Be quiet. Please. This is between me and Brandon."

B: "Oh, to hell with that. You can't make deals without me."

L: "Yes I can. We all heard the judge. I have custody. Not you. Brandon, what do you say?"

Br: "Is this for real? You're going to let me go. Just like that."

L: "No, not just like that."

Br: "Oh, I knew there would be a catch."

L: "Not a catch. Just some ground rules. You come with us now. Willingly. And, for the next thirty days, you'll be living with us in Tree Hill. I need you to give this a shot. A genuine shot. I need you to keep your mind open to the possibility that you may want to stay. Can you do that? Because if you can't, the deal's off."

Furious, Brooke just stares at Lucas. Brandon drops his suitcase and reaches inside his back pocket for a cigarette and a lighter.

L: "One more thing. No smoking."

Br: "Are you kidding me?"

L: "Nope. Those are the rules. What do you say?"

Without a response, he lights the cigarette and starts walking back towards Skylar's house.

L: "Where are you going?"

Without looking back or stopping, he just yells back his answer.

Br: "Running away. Just kidding. Give me a minute. I have to think about it."

As Lucas attempts to follow him, this time it's Brooke's turn to grab his arm to stop him.

B: "What the hell did you just do? That was your deal?"

L: "Didn't you say you were in?"

B: "I didn't know what I was signing up for then!"

Coming close enough touch her, Lucas looks straight into her eyes.

L: "Brooke, do you trust me?"

B: "Yes."

Her voice is clear. Not one hint of hesitation. Brooke doesn't have to think about it. After all these years, even after what he just pulled, she trusts him with their son. It's the honest truth.

L: "Let him think it's just thirty days. That's thirty more than we had a minute ago to change his mind. To show him he can be happy with us. If he thinks he has a way out, he's more likely to come with us. It's a chance, Brooke. Weren't you just asking for one? The way he is right now, it might be the only chance we've got."

B: "This deal better work. Because, if we lose him again, I will never forgive you."

L: "You'll see. It'll work."

Brooke and Lucas watch Brandon walk away in silence. He takes the steps up to Skylar's porch and sits down next to her on the bench. The two teenagers are silent for a moment. It's like they both know what's coming. That this is goodbye.

S: "You have to go."

Br: "I don't want to leave you."

S: "And, I don't want you to leave, but you have to. I'll be just fine without you. Don't you always tell me I'm strong?"

Br: "Strongest."

S: "Besides, you can't take care of me forever. You have to live your own life."

Br: "My life is here. With you."

S: "No, you see that's where you're wrong. I always knew you were meant for something better."

Br: "It's just thirty days."

S: "It doesn't have to be. Your mom. She's not so terrible."

Br: "Rooting for the enemy, are you?"

Skylar gets up from the bench, walks over to the edge of the porch and looks over at Lucas and Brooke for a brief moment. She turns around to face Brandon and leans her back against the porch railing.

S: "That's what I mean. They don't have to be the enemy. Look, why would they come to court or even here if they didn't want you? They're trying. Maybe you can do the same. I never met my father. And, my mother, well, you know about her. She was so strung out on pills to be awake most of the time. But, if I had a second chance with them, I'd like to think I could at least try to make it work. And, you have these two people who practically fall out of the sky and onto your lap, who are fighting for you, and what do you do? You push them away. You piss me off sometimes, you know that?"

Br: "Sky."

S: "Don't sky me. Go. Save yourself. Let them save you. Be happy. What are you waiting for?"

Brandon quickly gets up, and at one fell swoop, takes her into his arms. Embraced in a tight hug, he kisses the top of her head and leans down to whisper in her ear.

Br: "I'll come back for you. This isn't goodbye."

A part of her wishes it was. But, she knows he'll be back. Brandon Walker is the only person who has yet to let her down. Even if he has to swim against the current, climb over the sharp rocks, walk in pitch black to get to her. That's the kind of person he is. A _finisher_ who follows through on his promises. And, that's what scares her. The possibility that coming back means he sacrifices the life he was meant to have. But, telling him to never look back won't change anything. No one tells Brandon what to do. So, she returns his hug and when they part, her arms linger on his for a moment. She smiles and takes a step back.

S: "Go. Get out of here. Before I change my mind."

So, Brandon walks down the steps. Leaving the life he knows, the one person he loves, behind. And, when his feet hit the street, he sees Lucas put his suitcase in the trunk of his car and walk to stand next to Brooke, who doesn't take her eyes off her son. His steps are short and slow. It's like he struggles with the pull from what's familiar. Afraid of the unknown ahead. Like, all of a sudden, he forgot how to swim, walk, climb. But, he keeps taking that step forward until he reaches the car. He first looks at Brooke, and then at Lucas. And, he makes his decision.

Br: "I'm in. Thirty days."

To endure until he's free. Until he is finally rid of these people. Until he can come back for Sky.

L: "Thirty days."

To erase the past. Ask for forgiveness. Find peace. Be a family.

B: "Thirty days."

To get to know her son. Care for him. Protect him. Love him.

As Brandon takes his place in the backseat of Lucas's car, Brooke looks up at the house, at Skylar. She knows they owe this turnaround partially to her. Before she takes the passenger seat, her lips move in an inaudible thank you and she waves at her in gratitude. Skylar smiles and waves back. Before Lucas turns the key in the ignition, he looks up at the rear-view mirror and sees his son staring back. Smiling, he drops his head for a moment, and then turns to look at Brooke, who smiles back at him. One more battle won. But, the war rages. Brooke will fly to New York first, to not only take care of the move to Tree Hill, but also break the news to Kyle and Rachel. And, Lucas will take Brandon with him to Charlotte while he prepares to pack up his entire life and return home. They both know that they're nowhere close to the finish line. No, they can't even see the final destination yet. There are many more rivers to swim across, mountains to climb, and forests to walk through. Yes, it's a long and winding road ahead. And, all three of them have miles to go before they sleep.

_"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep."  
__~Robert Frost, 20__th__ century American poet_


	11. Word in Strongest Conjuration: Part One

**Author's Note: **Over the next two chapters, you'll be reading about the first day back in Tree Hill for a lot of people. This chapter is written primarily from Brandon's perspective and begins to introduce the core group of teenagers. You might find Brandon unusually reserved, but keep in mind that, at this point in the story, he's the outsider observing Lily and Jamie's homecoming. Those who like to visualize the scenes while they read should check out my profile first. I've added links to pictures of certain people whose physical characteristics I'm borrowing for these youngsters. Obviously, you have to use a little imagination to de-age them to sixteen. Feel free to substitute anyone else of your choosing if you don't like my suggestions. I'd love to hear about your first impressions of the teenage crowd. I've only just begun to craft who they are, so feedback will definitely impact their future and prominence in the story. The next chapter will focus on BL. Enjoy!

* * *

"_Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration."  
~Charles Dickens, 19__th__ century English novelist_

Four letter word. Noun. Any place of residence, shelter or refuge of a person, family, or household. Home. Simple enough. Easy. No brainer, right? Wrong. It's maybe the most loaded name in any language. A word beyond the reach of _the strongest conjuration_. For some of us, it's like the skin we live in. Uncomfortable to breathe in another's. Irreplaceable. Our only retreat. Resting place. Our very own corner of heaven. Like magic guards the front door, shielding us from the threats outside, and hiding the comfort within its limits. For others, there is no magic circle. No security. The skin doesn't fit. The retreat burns down to the ground. We feel homesick in the shelter. Homeless in the refuge. So, we escape. But, we keep running into ourselves. Try living life as vagabonds. Always in search of a new resting place. The unlucky fail to find it, never belonging anywhere. Some come to realize that home can be rebuilt at will. Just as long as we draw that circle around the right people. The rest of the drifters always come back. No matter how far we roam, how long we travel, we end up where we begin. Because, most of the time, what we search the whole world to find, is hidden in plain sight right under our noses. At home.

Brandon Walker is a nomad. A wanderer. He used to have a home. The safest, warmest place he's ever known. But, three years ago, a fatal accident broke the spell guarding the door. The demons outside flooded his retreat, kicking him out. Overnight, his skin shrank too tight. He's been running ever since. Three days ago, he had to leave behind the only person he dared to draw a magic circle around, Skylar. He's surrounded by strangers in a place they refer to as his new home. But, he knows better. Once again, he feels like a lone vagabond. Now, in the backseat of Lucas's car, he stares out the window. Maybe, in search of a new resting place. Because, despite what Brooke and Lucas seem to think, he is sure that this town is not it. His thoughts are interrupted when Lucas calls for him from the passenger seat up front. Unresponsive, he keeps staring out the window, but he can see in the corner of his eye that Lucas is holding out a cell phone for him to take.

Lucas: "Brandon? Hey! It's Brooke. She wants to talk to you."

He has no intention of talking to her, so he doesn't move his eyes an inch off the window and his hands remain where they are. Giving up, Lucas takes the phone back.

L: "Uhm...he can't talk right now. No, that's not it. He's busy with Cris."

It's a lame excuse, and Brandon knows that Brooke can see right through to the real reason. And, he would prefer her to know that he doesn't want to talk. But, being busy with Cris will do for now. He doesn't have to look up at the rear-view mirror to know that Karen is giving him a disapproving look. When he gets hit on the shoulder from the right, he turns around to give the culprit, Cris, his version of a death stare. It's ineffective. This guy doesn't give up.

Cris: "Doesn't have to be a lie. You could talk to me, you know."

He met Cristian Rivera about an hour ago. He is apparently the boyfriend of his aunt Lily. Hispanic, about six feet tall, built with wide shoulders, dark hair with crazy curls. He seems nice enough. But, honestly, Brandon has no intention of making friends while he has to live here. Thirty days. In and out. No collateral.

Br: "Kinda busy."

C: "With what, dude? Are you counting the cows in the fields?"

Br: "Maybe."

They are in the car driving to the airport to pick up Lily. She's flying in from Italy where she's spent the last eight weeks on an art scholarship. Karen told him that the fellowship ended two weeks ago, but that Lily wanted to stay and roam around Italy on her own. Perhaps, a fellow drifter, Brandon thought. Finally, someone who doesn't see the appeal of small town America. Little does he know, Tree Hill is Lily's safe place. But, we all venture out of our comfort zone sometimes. That's how we grow. Lucas turns to the back and tries to get Brandon's attention again.

L: "Brooke said she just got into town. She has to take care of something first. But, she wants to meet up later tonight. The three of us."

Br: "Whatever."

Karen: "I think that stands for _I'd like that_ in angry teenager lingo. What do you think, Cris?"

C: "That or _no way in hell_. I haven't mastered that language yet, Ms. Roe."

K: "Well, thank God you have a birth right to being bilingual."

All Brandon can do is exhale and shake his head once. If it was just him and Lucas in the car, Brandon would have told exactly where Lucas could shove that dinner idea. But, having Karen around restrains him. He knows it's a bit of an extreme reaction to a simple dinner. But, Lucas has been practically suffocating him since they left Skylar's house in Raleigh. He hasn't taken his eyes off of him. No, this isn't a home. It's a damn fishbowl. He wouldn't be surprised if Lucas keeps a diary of his movements. Recording meticulously his every trip to the bathroom. Jotting down when he goes in and out of REM sleep. Brandon gets it. He is afraid he'll run away like he planned to before. But, doesn't that also mean that their deal is meaningless? That he doesn't trust him? That his word isn't worth a damn thing? And, that pisses Brandon off. Not a good start. Not good at all. Brandon's so lost in his anger that he doesn't even realize that they arrived at the airport. Before she drives away to park the car, Karen pulls temporarily into the pick-up lane and lets Lucas, Brandon, and Cris out. For the first time since they agreed to the deal, Lucas leaves his side, walking anxiously several steps ahead. Thanks to the excitement over Lily's arrival, Brandon-guard-duty must be taking a backseat. Just when he takes a full breath in solitude, he hears Cris.

C: "I get it, man. You don't want to be here. You don't want to talk to me. That's fine. But, Lily has a way of wearing people down without even trying. It'll be fun watching you try to resist her."

Smiling, Cris runs to catch up to Lucas. Finally alone, Brandon takes the opportunity to hide. Even if it's briefly. He walks to the side of the building, takes out a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his jacket, and lights one. When he agreed to the thirty-day deal, he agreed to not smoke. But, that doesn't necessarily mean he agreed to quit. Such a vague verbal agreement carries enough loopholes for him to justify smoking without breaking the deal. Smoking outside, away from prying eyes, can't be all that bad. And, it's the only relief he has from this mess he finds himself in. They wouldn't dare take that away from him too, would they? When he gets caught by Karen, he sees that, sometimes, loopholes are worthless. She simply stands there, arms folded across her chest and head slightly tilted to the right. She doesn't have to say anything. That disapproving look is becoming all-too-familiar. And, there's something about letting down Karen Roe. He can't explain exactly why, but Brandon simply doesn't want to. So, he walks over to the trash can nearby, puts out the cigarette on the side of the metal, and flicks it into the bin. He walks towards Karen, takes out the pack and the lighter from his pocket, and places them on her ready-and-waiting palm.

Karen: "Thank you."

Br: "Yeah, yeah."

He walks around her and into the arrivals lounge. Karen first goes to the trash can to get rid of the pseudo contraband, then follows him inside.

L: "There you guys are. Her plane's delayed by about an hour."

K: "Why?"

L: "It doesn't say."

C: "Maybe it's the wind. It's pretty crazy out there today."

Cris is right. Brandon noticed earlier that day how the weather seemed to match his feelings. Uneasiness. Complete chaos. You burn not just from the scorching heat but also the harsh wind on your face. The surfer he locked inside himself got excited for a split second. The offshore winds of this magnitude are a surfer's wet dream. But, then he remembered that he hasn't been on a board in years. The ocean used to be within the limits of his magic circle. Some days, smack in the middle of that circle. His own corner of heaven. He felt as comfortable riding the waves as he did in his own skin. Now, all it does it to remind him that he no longer has a home. And, he doesn't need the ocean for that. He realizes that he's been a million miles away again when he feels someone's arms around him. When he looks down, all he sees is wavy blond hair. The woman takes a step back from the hug, but keeps her hands on his arms.

Haley: "It's so good to see you again. Do you remember me? Haley? We met a few days ago when you came to Karen's."

Br: "Yeah, I remember you. The middle name freak."

L: "Brandon!"

H: "It's ok, Luke. Yes, I did ask you about your middle name. I'm so glad you're here."

L: "What are you doing here?"

H: "Jamie's coming in from High Flyers today. His plane should have landed by now."

L: "We're here for Lily."

H: "I figured as much. You know Brooke and Rachel are staying with me, right? Until they find a place to rent."

L: "Yes, she called me."

Haley turns her attention to Brandon.

H: "It's great that you're here, Brandon. You can meet my son. You're the same age. He can help you get to know the town, introduce you to a few people. Not that Cris here, or Lily, can't do it. They all hang out together anyway."

C: "Hi Mrs. Scott."

H: "Hi Cris."

Brandon can see a smiling Haley looking straight into his eyes, expecting an answer. Something like _I can't wait to meet your son. We'll be such good friends._ But, all he can do is stare back. Honestly, he doesn't need someone to show him around this godforsaken town or introduce him to people he won't remember in thirty days. When someone interrupts them, he's glad that he didn't have to lie or offend anyone with the truth.

L: "Nathan? Hey, little brother."

The _little brother_ comment intrigues Brandon, so he turns around to watch Lucas hug Nathan.

Nathan: "You're here for Jamie too?"

L: "Lily. I didn't know about Jamie. But, a pleasant coincidence nonetheless."

N: "Hi Karen."

K: "Nathan."

N: "Cris."

C: "Mr. Scott."

Brandon senses a formality, a coldness to Cris's greeting of Nathan that's absent in his interactions with Karen and Haley. But he doesn't have time to dwell on it when Nathan notices him.

N: "Oh my God...a young Lucas Scott alive and breathing. You must be Brandon. I'm Nathan, your uncle."

Stepping closer to Brandon, Nathan holds out his hand for him to shake. What he gets in response is a quick nod of the head and no handshake. Nathan retracts his hand and smiles.

N: "Go ahead and rebel. I wrote that book. You might regret it later though. No one has more incriminating stories about your old man. It is nice to meet you, Brandon."

Nathan turns to Haley and reminds her of the bet she suggested the morning they had breakfast together. Haley had offered to bet him $20 that the next time they saw Lucas, Brandon would be with him. Sometimes, it's too easy to predict the future.

N: "You see, I was smart not to take that bet."

Haley smiles in agreement. Her attention shifts to the opening arrival doors, and when she spots her son among the crowd, she starts screaming.

H: "Yes! There he is! Drum roll please!"

When Brandon looks over to the doors, he sees a tall teenager in blue baggy basketball shorts and a black T-shirt, carrying a backpack and a large duffel bag over his shoulder. At first sight, he's walking fast and smiling. Most likely at his screaming mother. But, then all of a sudden, the smile disappears and he stops.

16 years-old, 6', 158lbs, single-white-male, shaggy brown hair, blue eyes, rising basketball star, popular, town hero. That, in a nutshell, is James L. Scott. Cousin of Brandon L. Walker...not that he knows him. Yet. From the outside, he looks like the perfect carbon copy of the high point in his father's life. Boys want to be him. Girls want to be with him. But, Jamie doesn't have time for love. He doesn't even believe in it anymore. He's smart enough to get all As, but he hasn't cared much for school since his father's accident. The accident that erased the protection of the magic circle. Made him feel homesick in the shelter. Taking care of not only a disabled father, but also a broken mother, he had to grow up fast. Maybe, too fast. There's no pretense of a bad boy to keep up. Jamie is genuinely a good guy. He doesn't drink or smoke. In fact, he has no vices to speak of. Every time someone tells him how much he reminds them of his father, he cringes. He grew up with basketball. Maybe, he was even groomed for it. And, he's pretty damn good at it. But that's not why he plays. He plays because he wants to prove something to his father. Two years ago, a drunken and high Nathan mocked his fourteen year-old son that no matter how hard he tried, he would always live in his father's shadow. That he would always come up short. It was only a few months after that incident that the freshman Jamie became the Ravens' new starting shooting guard. Jamie Scott is one of those people who decided to rebuild his home. And, when he drew his new circle, he made sure to keep Nathan out. For the past three years, his mission in life has been to protect his mother from his father. Sometimes, it became a full-time job. Even a physical one. The breaking point came eight months ago when he punched his father to stop him from verbally attacking his mother. Every time his supposedly sober father claims he's changed and asks for a second chance, he reminds himself of that day. _Who do you think you are? You want to leave Nathan Scott? You're nothing without me. Just some washed up cabaret singer. You don't even have the looks to keep you on that stage anymore._ Now, he sees that the man who torched his safe place down in flames stands with his mother waiting for him. That the man who took away his belief in love stands there smiling as if nothing happened. And, it's like a nightmare that erases all signs of excitement off his face. A part of him wonders if he should just turn around and take the next flight out. Anywhere, but here. But, then he remembers he can't leave his mother behind, unprotected and vulnerable. And, when he sees that, by some miracle, his uncle Lucas is also with them, he knows he has to stay. So, he forces himself to take the step forward. And, then another. Until he reaches Haley who's running to hug him.

Haley: "Did you get taller?"

Jamie: "Mom, you saw me less than two months ago."

H: "You're definitely taller. And skinnier. What did they feed you there?"

J: "You know...the usual suspects. Bread, water, a whole lot of pot, touch of arsenic."

H: "Mock me now. We'll see who the boss is when we get home."

Motioning with his head over to Nathan, Jamie asks the one question he really doesn't want to know the answer to.

J: "Mom? What's he doing here?"

H: "He wanted to see you. And, my car's out of commission, so he drove me."

J: "You couldn't take a taxi?"

H: "Jamie, can I trust you to be civil?"

J: "Ok, but I'm not riding in his car."

H: "Oh, yes you are. I promise it won't kill you. "

Arm in arm, mother and son walk together to join the rest of the crowd. Jamie drops the duffel bag and goes to hug Lucas first.

J: "Uncle Luke, hell hasn't frozen over, has it?"

L: "You didn't see the tiny pigs flying around your plane? I wasn't going to miss my favorite nephew's coming home party."

Jamie hugs Karen next, and when he sees Cris, he remembers Lily is also coming home that day.

J: "Yo, Cris. Hey, man. You're looking scrawny. Better get in shape before the season starts."

C: "Smartass. I hurt in places you never knew existed. JJ's been kicking my ass on the board all summer."

J: "Yeah? We'll see."

Haley makes Jamie turn around to face Brandon.

H: "Jamie, this is Brandon. He's Lucas's son."

Confused and shocked, Jamie looks at his mom, then to Lucas, before he fixes his eyes on Brandon.

J: "What?"

L: "It's true."

J: "Seriously?"

Br: "I can't fucking believe it myself."

Brandon thinks he only thought the words, not actually spoke them out loud. But, he did. He gets a lot of heads turned in condemnation and even Lucas saying something he can't hear in a stern voice. But, he also gets Cris and Jamie to laugh. Jamie extends a hand for him to shake.

J: "Welcome to the family, cuz. None of us can fucking believe we belong here."

It's the first hand extended to him that Brandon chooses to shake. He's not sure why this one, why now, but something tells him this guy just might be different than the rest. The moment is cut short when Haley slaps the back of Jamie's head. This time, it's Jamie who gets reprimanded for his choice of words and it gets a brief laugh out of Brandon. The first in a long time. As Jamie takes a step back to grab the duffel bag he dropped, he comes face to face with Nathan, who also leans down to pick it up. Beating him to the bag, Jamie quickly grabs it off the floor and steps back from Nathan.

J: "I got it."

N: "Just trying to help, son."

J: "Don't help. While you're at it, don't call me son."

Jamie turns around to face Lucas.

J: "When's Lily's plane landing?"

L: "Should be in another half hour, but it was delayed once already."

J: "Shoot. I'm beat. I want to stay, but I don't think my legs will let me. Tell her to call me when she gets home?"

L: "Sure."

J: "You're not disappearing the second I walk out that door, are you?"

L: "No. I'm here to stay."

As he starts walking out, Jamie can't help but express his surprise.

J: "Well, I go away for a few weeks and everything's different. The missing in action uncle returns..."

He looks over to Brandon.

J: "...with a son of his own. This is going to get interesting."

Saying their goodbyes to everyone, Nathan and Haley follow him out. Brandon walks over to the window to watch them leave. He thinks how, from the outside, they look like a perfect little family. A son coming home from whatever successful adventure he was on this time, and the handsome couple driving him home. But that's the thing about home. About family. Sometimes, it's just an illusion. What you see is not what you get. No one knows how high the flames go, except for those trapped inside the burning home. And, judging by the brief interaction he witnessed between Nathan and Jamie just now, Brandon can tell that he's not the only one trapped inside four walls with unwelcome guests. Sitting down on an uncomfortable chair in the arrivals lounge, he just looks out the window watching people come and go for a while. Then, he calls Skylar, the only other person who's ever helped him fight the fire. When she doesn't pick up, he texts her.

"_i'm in hell. 2hot here w/o u. come visit. asap."_

As he hits the send button, he gets startled by the cries of a girl. He turns around to see a wobbling Cris being straddled by a screaming blonde. Her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, she starts kissing him. His face practically gets lost in the thick blond hair. When she finally comes up for air, this time, her fingers get lost in his curly black hair. And, it sounds and looks like they don't care that they are in the middle of a busy airport. Not to mention under the watchful eye of her mother and brother. He can't help but be amused. This must be Lily.

Lily (Li): "I've missed you so much."

C: "Cariño, I've missed you more."

Li: "Not possible. Bésame."

And, they kiss again. For what seems like forever to Brandon. He looks over to Lucas and Karen, who just stand there stunned, staring at the couple with open mouths and wide eyes.

K: "Uhm...Lucas? I'm not invisible, am I?"

Without taking her eyes off Cris, Lily responds to her mom's question.

Li: "I see you, mother."

K: "Oh, thank God. I was under the impression that you walked right through me and into the arms of a man. Wait, that did actually happen."

C: "Mi querida, I'm afraid your brother might kill me, if I don't put you down this instant."

Li: "Lucas is all for making love, not war. Right, big brother?"

That's the first time Lily looks over to Lucas, and jumping off Cris's arms, she runs towards her brother's. Brandon watches as Lucas's expression changes from stunned anger to smiling joy in her embrace. She leans back and runs her right hand down his left cheek.

Li: "I'm a big fan of the smooth feel. Shaving is good for the soul."

She goes from Lucas's arms into Karen's.

Li: "Don't tell the boys, but I've missed you the most."

16 years-old, 5'5'', 125lbs, single-white-female, long blond hair, blue eyes, captain of the cheer squad, artist, dreamer. That, in a nutshell, is Lily R. Scott. Aunt of Brandon L. Walker...not that she knows him. Yet. What you see is what you get with Lily. It's not just her sweet face and cow eyes that make her appear naturally sympathetic. There's a warm approachability to even the way she stands. No one can say _no _to her. Simply because they don't want to. Hugs and smiles come easy to her. No one would expect anything less from Karen's daughter anyway. She's not exactly coy or docile. No, she's all passion. Always up for an adventure. Like there's something in that big wide world made specifically for her. And, she's determined to find it. That same search took her to Florence on a painting fellowship. Yes, Lily Scott is an artist. She's a painter. Dancer. Photographer. She sees everything through a very unique lens. Sometimes, Karen thinks Lily chooses to live life a million miles a minute so that she doesn't have to think about growing up without a father. Like if she stops for a second, she might feel the sadness, the loss. Her mother has always been the strongest person she knows. Her role model. Her home. The wizard shielding her from hurt and providing comfort. Her brother helps, too. When he's around. Which is less than she'd like. A picture of her parents on the night they got engaged is framed on her nightstand. The only thing she never takes off is a silver chain with the pendant letter K on it. Her mother gave it to her on her 7th birthday so that her father would always be close to her heart. Lately, her heart has been all about Cristian Rivera. Lily likes to say that it was love at first sight. One morning, eleven months ago, a curious girl walked down the street to welcome the family who just moved into her neighbourhood. Then, the girl saw the boy helping his father unload the moving truck. The unsuspecting Argentinean boy looked up and smiled. The rest is history. Lily and Cris have been inseparable ever since. Intense. Committed. Theirs is the kind of love that shifts any pre-existing definition of home. The kind that builds a brand new retreat just for two. That lets one share the other's secret hiding place. So, today, Lily Scott returns home, only a bit more fluent in Italian, but a whole lot more high on life. And, she's about to find out home is never how you left it.

L: "Lily, there's someone I want you to meet."

Searching the crowd around them, Lily spots Brandon.

Li: "Don't tell me. Nephew? Come here."

Lily stands her ground with wide open arms. Brandon can tell that she's waiting for him to go hug her, but he remains standing in his spot.

Li: "Ok. That's how you want to play it? You know about Mohammad and the mountain, right?"

And, she just runs up to him and hugs him. Standing on her toes, she messes with Brandon's hair with one hand. She has on one of those wide, heart-warming smiles. Just like Cris warned him earlier. Lily has a way that penetrates through steel, without even trying.

Li: "Oops, did I mess with your tough guy image? It's just one hug. You'll live. You might still pass for a bad boy in some circles. I promise."

She turns around and locks arms with Cris.

Li: "Mom, I'm starving. Can we have an early dinner?"

K: "Sure. The café?"

Li: "Yummy."

C: "Lily, I can't come with you."

Li: "Your other girlfriend called?"

C: "You got me. Why don't you go eat with your family? Hang out. I have to run a few errands for papi. But, the waves are crazy today so JJ and I will be at the beach at sunset. That's just in a couple of hours. Come join us?"

Li: "It's a date."

C: "Hey Brandon, you should come too."

When Brandon doesn't respond, Lily jumps in.

Li: "I'll drag him by that mean leather jacket if I have to."

C: "I'll call Jamie, too."

Li: "Mr. Big Shot is back already?"

C: "Yeah."

Cris and Lily walk out first, talking in Spanish about one thing or another. Karen turns to Lucas, who is picking up the suitcase Lily left behind.

K: "Can you tell me where exactly she buys all this energy? I mean, I barely look alive when I fly for as long as she just did."

L: "Mom, I hate to break it to you but, you and I...we're old. That's what youth looks like."

K: "Young and in love."

L: "No kidding."

After a short trip into town, Karen first drops off Cris at his father's law office, then heads to the Café. Claiming that if she cries, pasta would come out instead of tears, Lily requests anything but Italian for dinner. When Karen asks for Brandon's opinion, the most un-Italian food he can think of is burgers. Lily loves the idea. So, while Karen grills the meat, Lily practically forces Brandon to help fry the potatoes. Over the next two hours while they eat, they look through Lily's pictures and listen to her stories. Stories about all kinds of people she met on the trip, the new painting techniques she learned, how the pictures don't do justice to the Sistine Chapel and how you haven't lived until you've ridden on the back of a Vespa down the Italian countryside. Lucas and Karen notice that it's the first time that Brandon remains in the moment without zoning out. He even asks Lily questions. There's a certain kind of passion in Lily that makes you want to go wherever she wants to take you. You don't even ask where you're going. When Karen catches Lucas's eyes and smiles, he knows it's because they are both glad that Brandon responds to that passion too. Noticing the time on her watch, Lily quickly gets up.

Li: "Look at the time. We have to go, nephew."

She walks over to Karen and kisses her on the cheek.

Li: "Mom, delicious food as usual."

She does the same with Lucas.

Li: "Luke, you don't mind schlepping my bag home, do you?"

L: "Who do you think has been schlepping it so far?"

Li: "You're my favorite brother."

Seeing that Brandon hasn't moved an inch, Lily stops and stares at him.

Li: "You don't really expect me to drag you by the jacket, do you? Cause if your ass is in that chair for one more second, I will."

L: "She means it."

Brandon gets up and follows Lily out. After all, no one can say _no_ to Lily Scott. They simply don't want to. Brandon is no exception. Karen and Lucas watch the two teenagers leave.

K: "Less than twenty-four hours back home and you're already a million miles away."

L: "I'm just worried about Brandon."

K: "He's going to be just fine here. It's his home."

L: "Mom, he doesn't see it that way. He's been eerily quiet most of the time. And, when he does speak, it's pure defiance. Except the last hour or so. That's got to be the Lily factor."

K: "Maybe. Maybe, you just need to give him time to adjust. And, some space."

L: "Space?"

K: "Luke, I don't know how you were with him in Charlotte, but since you guys got here last night, you've been watching him like a hawk."

L: "No I haven't. I just let him leave without any objections, didn't I?"

K: "It's the first time you let him do anything without you. Tell me I'm wrong."

Lucas doesn't have a response, because Karen is right.

K: "You have to let him be a kid. If he feels trapped here, he's going to take the first bus out of town. It won't feel like home. More like a prison. Give him a house key and set a curfew. You have to trust that he'll come back. Things will be easier now that Lily and Jamie are here. They'll keep an eye on him."

Lucas is distracted by his cell phone ringing.

L: "It's Brooke."

K: "Say hi."

L: "Hey, Brooke."

Brooke: "Hi. Can you meet me right now?"

L: "Sure. Mom says hi by the way. Where are you?"

B: "73 Ocean Drive. Bring Brandon with you."

L: "He's not with me, Brooke."

B: "You lost him? Already?"

L: "No. Give me a little more credit than that. He's with Lily. They went to the beach."

B: "Actually, that works out really well. How quickly can you get here?"

L: "I'll be there in ten minutes. See you."

After saying goodbye to his mother, Lucas starts walking towards the address Brooke gave him on the phone. While he makes his way to Ocean Drive, Lily and Brandon finally reach the beach and take a seat on the sand. Brandon sees that Cris was right. The waves are reaching almost six feet and the water's full of surfers. With one hand blocking the setting sun, Lily squints her eyes and looks at the ocean searching for Cris. Her free hand squeezes Brandon's arm, and when she speaks, it's clear how nervous she is.

Li: "Tell me I have nothing to worry."

Br: "You have nothing to worry. Why?"

Li: "Cris is new at this surf thing, and when I see waves like these, I worry."

Br: "He'll be ok."

Li: "Go ahead, lie some more. It makes me feel better."

Dropping her hands to her sides, she smiles at him and he smiles back.

Li: "Brandon Walker...is that a smile? Nice dimples. Huh...you do have more than one expression. You know, the angry one?

Br: "Oh yeah, I've got the whole range from barely conscious to furious."

Li: "So, you and my brother, where in that range do you sit on that topic? I feel some strong Arctic winds in the air."

Br: "Your senses are intact. We're on a major iceberg."

Li: "I see. Look, I don't know the whole story and I'm willing to listen if you want to tell it. And, I'll admit to being biased. But, my brother...he's one of the good ones. I know it's hard for you to believe that now. But, you'll see."

Br: "Easy for you to say. I didn't see a long-lost father around for you to have to deal with."

Li: "He's dead."

She keeps her eyes on the ocean as she answers. Quick and painless. A matter of fact. But, with a faint hint of vulnerability screaming that there is a huge tidal wave of backstory behind the simple statement. And, Brandon regrets his words the moment that wave hits him.

Br: "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Li: "It's ok. It happened before I was born. "

Br: "I'm such an idiot. Lily, I'm really sorry."

Li: "You will be if you apologize one more time."

What follows is a couple of minutes of silence as they stare at the surfers getting lost under the waves. As if they both need a break from the heaviness of that revelation. Brandon is unaware that the next revelation will be even worse.

Li: "My father was killed by your grandfather."

Br: "What?"

Lily looks at Brandon with a smile that does the impossible. She manages to lighten the load of what she just said.

Li: "We don't exactly belong in a Norman Rockwell painting."

Br: "You don't say."

Li: "How much do you know about our family?"

Br: "Nothing really."

Li: "Ok. Here are the basics as simple as they get. Your grandfather, Dan, got two women pregnant, when he was a couple of years older than we are now. Karen, my mother, his high school girlfriend, had Lucas. Deb, his college girlfriend whom he chose to marry, had Nathan, Jamie's father. Have you met Jamie yet?

Br: "Briefly, at the airport today."

Li: "That loser didn't wait for me? Anyway. Where were we? Yes. Dan refused to have anything to do with Lucas. So, his brother, Keith, helped my mother raise him. He was like a father to Luke. He was also in love with my mother. Years later, they were engaged. Fast forward nine months, and I was born. But, somewhere in those nine months, Dan killed my father. His own brother. Shot him in the high school hallway."

Br: "Why?"

Li: "His reasons are a mystery to me. Jealousy, spite, insanity? Some misguided form of revenge? It doesn't matter. I stopped trying to understand why evil does what it does a long time ago."

Br: "I'm sorry, Lily. I know a little about losing a parent. But, this...I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

Li: "I had my entire life to deal with it. It gets better. I promise."

Br: "What happened to Dan?"

Li: "He confessed. He died in jail. Heart failure. It's been over a decade."

Br: "Wow. You can't make this stuff up."

Li: "I don't want you to think I'm trivializing what you're going through. But, the real reason I'm telling you the story is to show you that your father has been through worse. And, he survived. You will, too. Whatever father issues you may have pale in comparison to Luke's."

Br: "Thanks for telling me."

Li: "Sure."

She turns her attention back on the water and tries to see if she can spot Cris and JJ among the few surfers returning to shore. No such luck.

Br: "What do you know about my parents?"

The second he realizes that he referred to Brooke and Lucas as his parents, Brandon corrects himself.

Br: "I mean about Brooke and Lucas, and what happened when I was born?"

Li: "Not much. Once again, it was before I was born. Before mom told me about you on the phone a few days ago, I didn't know you existed. But, I've heard stories about your parents. I've never met your mother. I've seen pictures of her. She's beautiful. And, they look happy...Brooke and Lucas. Actually, my brother looks happier in those pictures than I've ever seen him be in real life. I can tell that they were in love. I don't know exactly what happened. The story goes that the girl left, and the boy was never the same. But, when you can have the truth, why listen to the stories? If I were you, I'd go directly to the source. Ask them."

Br: "Maybe. Someday."

Lily wants to tell him not to wait too long, but she doesn't get a chance. She's startled by a hand on her shoulder and when she turns around, she sees Jamie.

Jamie: "Scusa, donde esta el pizza?"

Lily gets up and throws her arms around his shoulders.

Li: "Speak of the devil. Did you just ask about pizza in a broken Spanish slash Italian?"

J: "Give me some credit. I had to look up every word. Besides, I'm hungry."

Li: "What's new?"

J: "Welcome back, world traveller!"

They finally part from the hug, but stand only a few feet away from each other.

Li: "And, what a welcome it was. You were at the airport today? Why didn't you wait for me?"

J: "I'm sorry, Lils. I was dead from the flight. I crashed the moment I got home. Your idiot boyfriend woke me up."

Li: "He told me he'd call you to come over."

J: "Where is Johnny Utah?"

Lily turns back and points to the surfers in the ocean.

Li: "Somewhere in the water."

J: "With those waves? Let's hope JJ is a good teacher. Cause we both know your boy has no balance."

Lightly punching his shoulder with her fist, Lily gets annoyed at the implication.

Li: "Shut up. Hey, you've met Brandon, right?"

Jamie leans down and meets Brandon's eyes.

J: "Hey man."

Br: "What's up?"

Lily starts running towards the ocean as if it's on fire.

Li: "That's them!"

Brandon and Jamie sit side by side on the sand, and watch Lily run up to two surfers on the shore. She hugs the shorter one first, and then, jumps into the arms of the other. It's a familiar sight. In fact, the same exact one from the airport. So, Brandon knows it must be Cristian.

Br: "Ah, true love."

J: "No such thing."

Br: "Fellow cynic."

J: "Realist."

Br: "Right. Who's the girl?"

J: "What?"

Br: "To be so jaded this early in life, it must be a girl."

J: "Or, maybe, just maybe, you don't know everything."

Brandon is taken aback by Jamie's reaction.

Br: "Hey man, I'm just making an observation."

J: "Well, observe someone else."

Jamie realizes that he's being rude for no reason. That the punishment doesn't match the crime. That the crime in question isn't even a crime. It's really simple curiosity. But, he can't help but be annoyed at this virtual stranger's assumptions. Maybe he's taking out his frustrations on Brandon. The frustration over the breakdown of the one true love he grew up with, that of his parents. The frustration over the fact that this guy, who knows practically nothing about him, manages to push his buttons. Unaware of Jamie's inner turmoil, Brandon is confused that they went from almost friendly acquaintances to adversaries all of a sudden. Wasn't this the guy who welcomed him into the family just a few hours ago at the airport?

Br: "I mean no disrespect. Did I say something to offend you?"

J: "Whatever."

Br: "What the hell is your problem?"

J: "Just drop it, ok?"

Br: "Fine."

When Brandon looks away from Jamie, he sees that Lily and Cris are walking up to them hand in hand. The second surfer, whom Brandon assumes is JJ, stops a few steps behind to unzip the back of the wetsuit. When the top of the suit falls over the bottom, it reveals a red bikini underneath. That's when he realizes that this JJ must be a girl. She has about the same stature as Lily, but there's a fragility to her stand. As she comes closer, Brandon sees her brown, pixie-cut hair, sun-kissed high cheeks, and pouty, full lips parting in a stunning smile. She's captivatingly beautiful. So much so that if real life had those cheesy slow-motion movie moments, this girl walking up to him in a red bikini top carrying a surfboard would be one. Maybe, the only one. But, real life is more cruel than that. When she comes close enough, Brandon sees that her smile is meant for the now standing Jamie. Closing in the distance between them, she goes straight for his self-proclaimed cousin and hugs him.

JJ: "Welcome back, stud. We've missed you."

Jamie lingers in the hug just a tad bit longer than any platonic friend would, and it dawns on Brandon. This must the girl. She is the reason Jamie doesn't believe in true love. And, the reason why his head almost got chewed off a minute ago. The girl separates from Jamie and finally notices Brandon.

JJ: "Who's the brooder?"

Brandon stands up and takes a step closer. He hopes that the words he's about to utter come out more meaningful than the gibberish this girl turned his thoughts into.

Br: "Brandon. I'm Brandon Walker."

Li: "Brandon's my nephew."

JJ: "The son of the mysterious big brother? The one I'm still not sure exists?"

Li: "Oh, he exists."

JJ: "I didn't know he had a son."

Br: "If it makes you feel any better, he didn't either."

C: "The gang's taken over by Scotts. JJ, you and I need to recruit someone new to bring the balance back. I don't like being in the minority."

Br: "No worries, man. I'm not a Scott."

Li: "Oh, yes you are. You just don't want to admit it. Yet. You know...I kind of like being the same age as all my nephews."

C: "God, I love that you're so weird."

Li: "And, I love...how hot you are."

C: "That's all?"

Li: "Yep, that's it. I just want your body."

C: "Well, this body is all yours."

And, just like that Lily and Cris go at it again. While they kiss, Brandon sees that JJ quickly averts her eyes and for a split second he thinks that he sees guilt on her face.

J: "Uhm...can someone please remove the knife in my eyes?"

JJ: "What? Not a fan of PDA?"

J: "Not on my aunt."

JJ laughs. It's one of those deep, infectious laughs. One that makes you want to join even if the joke isn't funny. Brandon can't help but think how sexy she is when she laughs. JJ finally turns back to him, extends her hand, and introduces herself.

JJ: "Jenny. Jenny Jagielski. But, my friends call me JJ."

While he shakes her hand back, Brandon notices that Jamie is still staring at JJ.

Br: "Nice to meet you."

JJ: "It is nice to meet me, isn't it?"

JJ turns to Jamie and asks something about High Flyers, the flight, school or the weather. It doesn't exactly matter what she says. Brandon's already lost in thoughts. For the first time since he stepped foot in this town, his thirty-day deal doesn't seem so unbearable. No, it's not home. It's not his retreat. His resting place. Lily would claim _not yet_. But, he isn't sure if it will ever be. But, it is a place with a lot of questions and very few answers. Maybe he needs to ask those questions...about his past and where he comes from. About the reasons why the two people who were supposed to shield him from the pain chose to lock the doors leaving him outside without any protection. And, that's not all. He has a feeling that while he looks for answers, these four teenagers before him will create enough drama to keep him occupied. No, thirty days may not be such a bad idea after all.

"_Home is a place not only of strong affections, but of entire unreserved; it is life's undress rehearsal, its backroom, its dressing room, from which we go forth to more careful and guarded intercourse, leaving behind...cast-off and everyday clothing."  
~Harriet Beecher Stowe, 19__th__ century American author_


	12. Word in Strongest Conjuration: Part Two

"_Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration."  
~Charles Dickens, 19__th__ century English novelist_

There are certain moments in our lives that stay with us forever. Whether it's global events that change the world, or personal ones that rock only our corner of it. What we were doing when the planes hit the Twin Towers. Who we were with when the college admission letter arrived in the mail. What day, hour, and minute it was when we heard Princess Diana had died. Where we were when we realized that we were in love for the first time. Now, on the company jet flying to Tree Hill, Brooke Davis thinks about the impending move. About going home. She felt at home only twice in her life. Neither lasted more than a few months. And, when she thinks about both times, she can remember the exact moment in her life when she knew she had a home.

She's only seventeen years old, a senior in high school. It's an unfortunate period in Brooke Davis hair history; she's struggling to keep the growing bangs out of her eyes. With her back leaning against her bed, she is sitting on the floor of her apartment next to the boy she loves. The boy to whom she spent the entire summer writing eighty-two love letters that she never posted. The letters that she decided to finally share with him. A decision she regretted not long after. Despite her incessant yet vulnerable pleas that he must return every single one, he insists they talk about them instead. _Or, we could cut out my heart and you could stomp on it. Luke, it's embarrassing. You were never meant to read those._ It doesn't take him a second to respond. No hesitation. Pure honesty. _Brooke, I love those letters. The girl in them is so open and honest._ It's true. When we think no one's watching, we put down our masks. When we think no one will read our words, we write the naked truth. Uncensored. Exactly as it is in our hearts. _I don't know why it's so easy for me to get naked one way and not the other._ She has to look away when she says that. Because, it's a lie. And, Brooke can't look at Lucas in the eye when she lies. It's easy for him to see right through her. Just like he does then. _I do. I hurt you pretty bad. I'm not going to do it again._ Seven simple little words. And, she believes him. He smiles and leans in, and his hand reaches for the side of her face. A promise sealed with a kiss. Their foreheads touch, her hand rests on his neck, and she feels completely secure, comfortable, and protected. For the first time in her life. Invincible. Safe. Loved. Like there is only good in the world. That is the first moment Brooke Davis feels like she has a home. Because, Lucas Scott gives her one. Theirs is such an intense closeness that his hand on hers feels like her own, that when she falls asleep, his eyes close. So, she reaches for the box with the letters on her bed and places it on his lap. Because, at home, we don't wear masks. At home, the truth is naked, and our hearts are an open book.

Rachel: "Hey, Davis! Where did you go just now?"

Rachel's voice brings Brooke out of memories.

Brooke: "What?"

R: "I was talking about the contract with the Chinese and you just dozed off. I mean it's one thing if you no longer want silk in the Spring line, but if it's about my voice putting you to sleep, I'll slap you silly right now."

B: "No, I'm sorry. It's not about that. Can you just tell me one more time?"

Rachel puts the pile of paperwork on her lap back on the table between them and shuts down her laptop. It's clear Brooke is in no mood to focus on work right now.

R: "Only the clinically insane talk to themselves. I do have my crazy moments, I'll give you that. But, this, right here, is not one of them. What's going on with you?"

B: "Nothing. Let's work. I'm ready to work."

R: "I've seen you lie so much better. Is it Brandon?"

B: "I haven't seen him since we left Raleigh three days ago. I miss him, you know? It's silly. I've lived without him for sixteen years, and now I can't do it for three days!"

R: "I don't blame you. Lucas can't take care of a monkey. The kid's probably lost 10 pounds and hasn't showered in days. It's a good thing we're about to land, because that boy is lost without you."

Rachel manages to get a smile out of Brooke. She knows that her friend is trying to make her feel better about the fact that life went on for Brandon after Brooke left for New York. That the father and son had three days to bond without her. Yes, she called several times, day and night, to check up on him. And, yes, Lucas gave her a full report from what he ate for breakfast to what time he went to bed. Like a detailed itinerary of his every move. But, not once Brandon wanted to speak to her. Lucas claimed the freeze-out isn't directed just at her. That he says only the required minimum words to him..._yes, no, _and his favorite,_ whatever_. There was a time Brooke used to talk to her son for hours. About stupid little things like the weather, how she can't fit into her clothes anymore, how her favorite pair of wedges are too small for her swollen pregnant feet, or what color she thinks is best for a nursery. And, about the bigger things, the painful ones...like his father and how he was conceived in so much love, how she had no choice but to run and hide, or how she has to do the impossible and give him up so he can have the life he deserves. Of course, these long talks were all one sided. The unborn Brandon is the best listener she has ever met. There is this one moment that Brooke can never forget...the moment when the passive listener finally decides to participate in the conversation.

B: "Rachel, do you remember that day we were fantasizing about how our lives would be like when we're eighty? I was about four and a half months pregnant then."

R: "When we were in my parents' beach house? What made you remember that now?"

B: "I don't know. I was just thinking."

R: "Let me see...I probably said that I would be the hottest spinster the world has ever seen."

B: "Never letting yourself go gray or wrinkly."

R: "That's right. No self-respecting cougar would. And, you said..."

B: "...that I saw myself sitting in a rocking chair holding hands with my husband. I couldn't see his face and I didn't know his name. But, I could see us happy, in our garden, surrounded by our grandchildren and great-grandchildren...all twenty of them. And, that's when he kicked for the first time."

R: "The baby? I forgot about that."

B: "I didn't. I took it as a sign then. You know? He was basically telling me that he'd be there too."

Brooke never forgot that moment, because it's the second and the last time she felt like she had a home. For Brooke Davis, a home is not about a specific address with four walls around and a roof above her head. It's about surrounding yourself with the people who make you feel protected and cherished. Placing her hand and head on Brooke's belly so that she can feel and hear the baby, that's exactly what Rachel did for her then. It's about finding that one special person you love and would do anything to keep safe. With one involuntary kick of his barely developed foot, that's exactly who Brandon became for her then. The pregnancy was never real before that moment. The moment of unprecedented bliss when Brooke found her last happy resting place. Even her ever-stretching skin felt comfortable all of a sudden. It was as if she could see a bright circle magically appear around the three of them, keeping them out of harm's way.

But, no one has yet to master the trick to hold onto magic circles. The spell wears off every time. Sometimes, we have no choice but to leave the circle ourselves. Because we're afraid that if we stay, our safe place will go up in flames. Sometimes, we can't keep the people we love with us. All we can do is watch them leave and the magic disappear, taking away the shelter with it. No refuge. No rest. And, the cruelty of life without a home is that it never lets us forget what we used to have. Just like Brooke will never forget that seventeen-year-old handing over her love letters. Or the pregnant teenager smiling with her friend over her baby's first kick. No, once we feel at home, we can never let it go.

The flight attendant interrupts Brooke's thoughts to inform them that they would be landing in ten minutes and that the captain had asked they fasten their seat belts. As Brooke follows the instructions, she looks out the window. Tree Hill. It doesn't matter from how high in the sky she sees it. It looks the same. A collection of places and people from a distant past. And, maybe, just maybe, her new home. If she can get her son to stay.

When their jet lands, Brooke and Rachel are greeted on the private runway by a real estate agent. Before they can embark on the day's house hunting trip, Brooke excuses herself to call Lucas.

Lucas: "Hey."

Brooke: "Hi. I just landed."

L: "Really? We're on our way to the airport right now."

B: "How did you know what time I was getting in?"

L: "Uhm...Brooke, we're actually picking up Lily from the airport today. She's coming in from Italy."

B: "Oh. I see."

L: "But, we can pick you up too."

B: "It's ok. I have a ride, and I don't think I can wait. Is Brandon with you? Can I talk to him?"

L: "Yeah, hold on."

Brooke can hear him call for Brandon, but she doesn't hear a response. When Lucas returns, it's pretty clear what happened.

L: "Uhm...he can't talk right now."

B: "Right now? He never wants to talk to me."

L: "No, that's not it. He's busy with Cris."

B: "Who's Cris?"

L: "Lily's boyfriend."

B: "Oh. Nice try Luke, but we both know it has nothing to do with Cris. He wouldn't talk to me if I was the only person left in the entire world. That's ok. I'm here to change all that. Marathon, not a sprint, right?"

L: "Right."

B: "I'm house shopping all afternoon, but I was hoping the three of us could get together tonight. I'm staying at Haley's until I can find a place."

L: "Sounds good. Call me when you're done."

B: "Ok."

L: "Hey Brooke?"

B: "Yeah?"

L: "Welcome home."

B: "Thanks."

For the next three hours, the real estate takes Rachel and Brooke from house to house at practically all corners of Tree Hill. When Brooke still refuses to commit to a lease by the time they go through twelve houses, Rachel asks the agent to leave them alone so she can talk to Brooke.

R: "Ok, what's up with you?"

B: "What do you mean?"

R: "I mean it's been three hours. I get that this one is too small, but we've seen some beautiful houses. Honestly by the fifth, they all started to look the same to me."

B: "How would you know? You've been on the phone the whole time."

R: "All work calls. Someone has to keep your company doors open."

B: "And, I appreciate it."

R: "Now, talk to me. Is this some sort of buyer's remorse? You don't want to move anymore?"

B: "No, that's not it."

R: "Damn. I was hoping you'd come to your senses."

B: "Rachel! You know why I have to do this."

R: "Yes, I'm sorry. It's just that this place isn't exactly filled with happy memories for me. Or you. Can you blame me for wishing this family reunion was happening in, oh, I don't know, Maui or Fiji? Hell, even New York."

Remembering that her move impacts her best friend as well, Brooke smiles and decides to play along.

B: "I'm partial to the French Riviera myself."

R: "Then, what is it? Is it Kyle? What happened when you told him?"

B: "Nothing. He was his usual understanding self. The lawyer in him kicked in and he started running through alternate scenarios. But at the end of the day, he had to agree that none were as effective as me moving. Despite how much he hated it."

R: "Did you tell him about the marriage proposal in..."

Brooke hastily cuts her off and corrects the question.

B: "It was not a proposal."

Amused by Brooke's denial, Rachel smiles.

R: "Oh, yes it was. I mean not the on-bended-knee, ring-in-the-champagne kind, but it was definitely a proposal."

B: "I didn't tell him."

R: "Uh-oh."

B: "No, don't uh-oh me. There will be no wedding, so there's no reason why I should tell him there was ever a non-proposal."

R: "You know he can easily get his hands on the court transcripts, right?"

Brooke panics, but it doesn't last very long.

B: "Really? It doesn't matter. Because, why would he need to do that?"

R: "So, we're stuffing this whole marriage idea in the same super secret file in the drawer where we shoved the sex that also never happened?"

Brooke knows Rachel is being facetious of course, but figuratively speaking, that is exactly what she is asking her to do.

B: "File away."

R: "Boy, that file's getting pretty damn thick. Better be careful, Davis. One more thing and I'm afraid it'll spill right out of that drawer."

Rachel's right. Lucas has been in her life for less than a week, and the lies and secrets keep piling up. There's only one way she can deal with the stress of what's to come. She needs someone to help carry the load. Who can blame her for wanting to keep close the only constant in her life?

B: "Rachel, I need you."

R: "Tell me something I don't know."

B: "No, I need you here. I can't handle being in this town alone."

When Brooke doesn't see one hint of surprise on Rachel's face, she realizes that her friend had been expecting the request. She smiles at the predictability of the moment, and when Rachel smiles back, it signals the formation of a new plan.

R: "I thought you'd never ask. Wait a second."

Leaving Brooke's side, Rachel disappears from room to room in the house they are in. After less than a minute of a self-guided tour, she goes to open the front door. Facing the agent waiting outside, she announces that she'll take the house.

B: "Are you sure?"

R: "Plenty of sunlight, lots of closet space, large living room. Fireplace is definitely a plus. And there's enough room for a jacuzzi on that terrace in the back. What's there to think?"

Turning towards the agent, Rachel starts listing her demands.

R: "I'll need the place furnished. Ready in three days. And, I need a month to month contract. My office can fax you whatever you need. Oh, and can I take a look at the pictures of the remaining houses you wanted to show us?"

Pleasantly surprised at the unexpected business she just scored, the agent happily hands over the folder. Rachel looks through the pictures until she finds one that she thinks is perfect for Brooke. Handing the folder back to the agent, she makes her final demand.

R: "This one. Forget the rest. You take Ms. Davis to this house now."

B: "You're not coming?"

R: "I can't. I have a million emails to respond to and this whole house hunting thing sucked up the entire day. No offense. But, I know you'll love this next one. Now, where shall I go for wireless access?"

B: "Tric? Haley's office? Call her first."

Rachel walks up to Brooke, and holds her shoulders with both hands.

R: "All right, Davis. Repeat after me. I'm not going to get proposed to or screw an ex-boyfriend while Rachel's gone."

B: "Bitch."

R: "Slut. Get out of here."

Telling Rachel that they'll meet later that night at Haley's house, Brooke follows the agent outside. Rachel is left standing alone in the empty living room of her new house. Her hands on her hips, she looks around the place once, and a nervous smile comes across her lips.

R: "Home, sweet home."

Rachel Gatina has never really understood the appeal of a home. She always thought of herself as a vagabond in search of something. She doesn't need a refuge, because she never rests. But sometimes, home finds us when we're not looking. A long time ago, Brooke gave Rachel the only home she's ever known. Someone unexpected needed her help, and she learned the extent of her compassion. What she was capable of. She offered shelter, and ended up building her very own safe place. So, it doesn't matter that the address says New York or Tree Hill, that safe place travels with her transforming any four walls into her home.

Barely a half hour after she leaves Rachel, Brooke stands alone in the middle of an empty living room herself. Having called Lucas about ten minutes ago, she's waiting for him to meet her there. She can't help but smile at how well her friend knows her. Because, the house Rachel sent her to is exactly what she's been looking for. Her wait is over when she hears Lucas's voice.

Lucas: "Brooke?"

Brooke: "In here."

Lucas closes the door behind him, walks into the house, and joins Brooke in the living room.

L: "The gate was open so I just walked in."

Seeing Brooke, Lucas feels underdressed all of a sudden. His blue jeans and green plaid shirt don't match her purple cocktail dress and high heels.

L: "Did you have something formal in mind for this get together?"

B: "What?"

L: "I can go change."

B: "No, don't be silly. This is how Brooke Davis, the fashion designer, looks on any given day. Having a public image is exhausting. But, in here, I'll be in sweats more often than in heels."

L: "What is this place?"

B: "My new house. What do you think?"

The house is a four-bedroom, four-bathroom, two-story, modern building nestled atop the hill overlooking the beach. The entry gate is from the back on Ocean Drive, and one has to walk through a small but perfectly-manicured garden to get to the house door. There's a tall wooden staircase that links the house directly down to the beach. The floor-to-ceiling windows make the place resemble a ship captain's command center. Like every single wave crashes onto the house itself. The open-plan kitchen is complete with a long, marble island counter. There's a fireplace in the living room and the master bedroom. Enveloping the front of the living room is a large terrace. Brooke already plans to put a dining table and sun-beds up on the rooftop. It was actually the moment she made that plan that she knew she had found the right place. One doesn't make plans for the wrong one.

L: "You bought this place?"

B: "Yes. Well, I haven't signed anything yet, but that's just a technicality for the lawyers."

L: "So, the move...it's official."

B: "Oh yeah, it's official. Who says you can't go home again?"

L: "Thomas Wolfe."

B: "I shouldn't be surprised you know that. Actually, Tommy might have a point. The real estate agent took us to my parent's house earlier today. Apparently the new owners moved away a few months ago and it's up for sale."

L: "And, you passed?"

Brooke looks out the living room window onto the ocean. To Lucas, it looks like she's contemplating what the right answer is.

B: "It didn't feel right."

She didn't even let the agent take them inside the house. This Brooke Davis is not the girl behind the red door. Not anymore. She had to leave behind that version of herself a long time ago. This move is all about starting over. She doesn't intend to repeat a past life. But, rather build a brand new one.

B: "But, this place...I liked it the moment I stepped inside. I can smell the ocean. And, it's silly, but it smells of possibilities, new beginnings. I mean, I know it's just four walls and a gorgeous view. But, I could picture myself turning it into a home."

Her eyes are travelling around the empty room, and she's smiling with such hope that Lucas can tell she really means it. But, he also knows that they have a lot of work to do, together, if that picture she sees is to come alive.

L: "Can we really do this, Brooke?"

B: "Do what?"

L: "Co-parent? Get along? Start over? Do you think you can ever...Do you think we can make it work?"

B: "Do we have a choice?"

It's really more of a rhetorical question. They both know that there is no choice to make. If they don't believe they can make it work, they may as well give up on ever having a relationship with their son. Now. Pack up and go. Never look back. Save everyone the heartache. No, they have to find a way. And, for Brooke, that means a plan of action. A list of dos, and don'ts. Clear rules to follow.

B: "That's actually why I called you here. We have to talk about what we're going to do. About Brandon...and, about us."

L: "Ok. Let's talk."

B: "First, we have to figure out how we're going to get out of this ridiculous marriage rock you trapped us under. I talked to my lawyer..."

L: "Wait, why?"

B: "What do you mean why?"

L: "I mean why are you putting at risk our only chance for custody? Did the lawyer say there was another way to guarantee that we keep Brandon?"

B: "No, but..."

L: "Is this about that boyfriend of yours?"

Brooke is taken aback by the question. It seems ridiculous to her that Lucas doesn't get why the marriage idea is so outlandish.

B: "No, Kyle has nothing to do with this. Luke, you can't be serious about getting married."

L: "I am. Look, I'm sober, no gun to my head, and I didn't lose a bet."

B: "Well, then buy some common sense and fix those loose screws in your head."

L: "Brooke, I know exactly what I'm doing."

B: "Then, explain this to me, because I'm really not getting it."

L: "What's there not to get? If we want Brandon with us, we have to be married. It's as simple as that."

B: "Simple, he says! Listen to me. A marriage should be between two people who love each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together. Not between two people who struggle every minute to be civil to one another. Luke, we don't even pass for acquaintances anymore."

L: "That's where you're wrong. Because, you're forgetting something. Brandon. We're not doing this for us. It's not about love or the rest of our lives. No valentines. No chocolates. No emotional roller coasters. Because we both know what's at stake. Because our son is in the middle. It will work, because there's no room for feelings that complicate everything."

B: "Because we're not in love?"

L: "Because, we both know what we lose if we mess this up. It's the ideal union."

B: "So, a contract? A business deal?"

L: "Exactly. We both get what we want. Our son. You know that I'm right. If you had another way to guarantee custody, we wouldn't be here arguing about this. What do you think?"

B: "You're insane, you know that?"

L: "Then, step inside the asylum. Brooke, we understood each other once. We were friends. Good friends. We could be, again. All you have to do is say I do."

It's the first time since the discussion over getting married began that Brooke takes a moment to think. The whole conversation feels like a whirlwind of one objection after another. Standing by the window a few feet away from her, he manages to invalidate all her theories with his. And, when she tries to figure out what her next objection should be, she's stunned that she can't find one.

B: "This can't be. I can't think of an argument."

Smiling that he's finally wore down her defenses, Lucas looks straight into her eyes.

L: "Is that a yes or a no?"

It's a peculiar feeling to not want to say no, but also to not be able to say yes. You feel the letters forming in your stomach, and the air in your lungs help merge them into words. But, the road up to your lips goes through your heart. And, there's no bigger roadblock. Because, the heart has no mercy. It retains the pain of every single word. Heard and spoken. Even unspoken. Forever.

B: "It's a maybe."

L: "So, Vegas?"

B: "Hilarious. We're not eloping."

L: "Why? You want to throw me a bachelor party first?"

She hits him lightly on the shoulder with the back of her hand.

B: "Lucas! Marriage is a big deal. I have a life. I have responsibilities. We have to consider everything before we can even think about hitting the altar."

L: "Ok. If you insist, you can plan the bachelor party. But, I'm warning you. Nathan will get strippers, and I'm afraid Brandon and Jamie are at an impressionable age."

Brooke just stands there with her hands on her hips, and it's easy to read the annoyance on her face. She crosses her arms over her chest, and just stares at him.

L: "Ok. I'm sorry. You're right. Go ahead."

B: "Sure? I wouldn't want to interrupt this one-man comedy thing you've got going on."

L: "I'm done with the jokes. I promise."

B: "What you're suggesting...this marriage, it's serious business. A legal binding contract."

L: "What are you worried about?"

B: "Loopholes, pitfalls...I don't enter into a business deal unless it's one hundred percent foolproof."

L: "Then, we should get a pre-nup."

B: "Luke, I'm not a golddigger. Do you even have gold I could dig?"

Lucas's hand goes for his heart, removing the invisible arrow with which she hit the bullseye.

L: "Ouch. Actually, it's for you. Without a pre-nup, I can divorce you before the first dance is over, and get half of everything you own."

B: "There will be no first dance."

L: "Are you sure? Because, I got some new moves. I promise, no electric slide."

B: "I thought we were done with the bad jokes."

L: "All right, all right. I'm really done now. Listen, the pre-nup...it's just so you have one less possible bloodbath to worry about down the road."

B: "That's fine. I'm not concerned about you stealing my money. What's yours is yours and mine is mine. The company lawyers can draft the standard terms. You know, division of assets, wills, probate, tax ramifications, bank accounts, investments. All of it."

L: "Sold. Is that it?"

B: "Not even close."

L: "What else you got?"

B: "Oh, only everything else in our lives. First, our son."

L: "Ok. We make every decision together. Unless it's unanimous, no action gets taken."

B: "Wait."

Brooke walks over to the kitchen counter and reaches inside her purse. She takes out a pen and a yellow legal notepad. When she walks back to Lucas, she hands the pen and the notepad to him.

B: "You're the writer. When it comes to contracts, written trumps verbal every time."

L: "Spoken like a true businesswoman."

He sits down on the floor by the window and scribbles down the first clause of their pre-nup. While taking a seat in front of him, she comes up with the second clause.

B: "About custody. We file for joint custody the same day we get married."

L: "Agreed."

B: "No big fancy wedding. A justice of the peace will do."

L: "Fine."

B: "Co-habitation. Unless we live together, we have zero chance of convincing the court that this marriage is real. If Social Services figures out we're faking to hold onto Brandon, this could all be for nothing."

Taking a break from writing, Lucas looks up at Brooke.

L: "Your place or mine?"

B: "Karen's house?"

L: "Good point. I'll move in here. I'll pay whatever rent you think is appropriate. But, only if we get some furniture."

B: "Only if I get to decorate."

Lucas returns to writing and gives her full authority over the selection of furniture.

L: "Well, buy whatever you wish from the curtains to the mattress."

B: "The mattress. That brings up our next clause. Let's be absolutely clear. We do not share a bedroom. You get your own room and I'll have mine. With one exception."

L: "Let me guess. When you have one too many tequila shots?"

This time, the slap on the shoulder comes as powerful as an embarrassed Brooke can make it.

B: "No! I meant when Social Services visits. We'll have to move some of your stuff into my room so we can fake it."

Rubbing the sting on his shoulder, Lucas shows a hint of disappointment.

L: "Oh."

As he reaches out for the pen he dropped when he got hit, Brooke looks down in silence for a moment.

B: "Lucas...what happened between us that night at Haley's..."

L: "We don't have to talk about that."

He hastily cuts her off. Not because he doesn't want to talk about what happened. But, because he can't even explain to himself how and why it happened or what it means. Not to mention, her disappearance the morning after tells him that what she'll most likely say is that it was a mistake she regrets. And, that is the last thing he wants to hear.

B: "I said some things I didn't mean that night and what we did..."

L: "I know."

When she gets cut off for the second time, it becomes clear to Brooke that Lucas just doesn't want to talk about that night. Maybe it's better that way. Because, she's not even sure what she would have said if he didn't stop her. All she knows is that if they are to make this marriage, this business deal, work, they will have to talk about it. Sooner or later. So, she temporarily closes the door she opened into the past, and returns to her rules about the future.

B: "Really? Because I don't want one indiscretion to get in the way of what we're doing right now. This package deal here...it doesn't include sex."

He leans forward a few inches and smiles. In that mischievous way Brooke hasn't seen in years.

L: "You mean with each other?"

B: "I'm serious, Luke. We have to make this crystal clear now so there is no confusion later on."

L: "Technically, an unconsummated marriage isn't official."

B: "Well, there will be no consummating this union. So, if that's a deal breaker, you may as well put the pen down now."

She begins to stand up, but Lucas reaches out a hand and stops her.

L: "No, I agree. Pen remains where it is. You see, I'm writing...separate bedrooms, no sex. With each other. What about sex with other people?"

As soon as he asks the question, Lucas looks over to her left hand and notices that she's not wearing the engagement ring anymore.

B: "What?"

L: "What if this boyfriend of yours decides to come and play doctor?"

B: "He's a lawyer."

L: "I mean the kind that requires no medical degree."

B: "You want to include a clause in the pre-nup to regulate my personal life?"

L: "Aren't most of these clauses about our personal lives? Just because you took off the ring, it doesn't mean he's not a factor. Hey, you're the one who said we had to be crystal clear."

B: "And, you're the one who said we were in a love-free zone. Do you hear me bringing your girlfriend into the discussion?"

L: "I don't have one."

Hoping that her face doesn't give away her surprise, Brooke wonders what happened to the girl from the voicemail.

B: "It doesn't matter. This is not a love triangle. Or a square. Or any other geometric shape. I thought we didn't have to worry about emotional roller coasters. Doesn't that imply no jealousy?"

L: "I'm not jealous. It's not about that. It's about good management. I'm surprised the businesswoman who conjured up this contract to begin with hasn't thought of it first. You know what sex does."

B: "Uhm...yes, I believe I'm familiar with the birds and the bees."

L: "It complicates everything. Regardless of whom you sleep with. And, if someone finds out we've been bedding other people before we go on our honeymoon, it could put our whole plan in jeopardy."

B: "We are not going on a honeymoon."

L: "You're missing the point. What's more important? Getting laid or keeping our son?"

B: "Oh, you are playing dirty."

L: "Play along, will you?"

Brooke sighs and looks away for a moment.

B: "Ok. We don't have sex with each other or anybody else. So what? We take up knitting? Pottery?"

L: "How about a time limit? When do you think it'll be safe to get a divorce? Did you ask that lawyer how long it'll take to gain permanent custody of Brandon?"

B: "He says it might take three to six months."

L: "Ok, so a three month contract."

B: "Sounds reasonable. But, we need an extension option. If we don't have permanent custody in three months, we can revisit this contract."

L: "Great."

B: "One more thing. No divorce. We'll get the marriage annulled the second custody is finalized."

L: "Agreed. Are we done?"

B: "I think so."

It takes a few seconds for Lucas to finish writing down everything. When he's done, he hands the pen and the notepad back to Brooke.

L: "You can have your lawyer type this up, right?"

Brooke gets up to put the notepad back in her purse and Lucas follows her.

B: "I'll fax it right away. They'll probably need some things from you for the marriage license."

L: "Give them my number. You know what? This was actually very useful. I got a little worried when you took out the legal pad, but you're smart in wanting to cover all our bases."

B: "One of us has to."

Standing across the kitchen counter, they stare at each other. In silence. Both slowly realizing the weight of what just transpired. Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott decided to get married. Not only that, but they drew up terms defining the limits of how their marriage will work. So formal. Clinical. Serious. So, Lucas does the only thing he can to break the tension.

L: "So, Vegas?"

B: "Oh, I know you're looking forward to the wedding night, but you'll have to wait a little longer. But, that doesn't mean we can't mark the moment. I believe a toast is proper etiquette when a transaction of this significance takes place."

Brooke turns around and grabs a bottle of champagne, and two flute glasses from next to the kitchen sink. When she returns, she hands the bottle to Lucas.

B: "Can you pop it? The real estate agent left these as a gift. I guess it was meant for this moment."

As he removes the foil and loosens the wire around the cork, she takes out the notepad with their pre-nup clauses from inside her purse.

B: "Careful with the cork! I don't want champagne stains all over my beautiful mahogany floors."

She signs the bottom of the last page with the contract terms and slides the pad and pen over to Lucas.

B: "Your turn."

As she pours the champagne in the flutes, he signs the agreement.

L: "Done."

Handing him a glass, she walks around the counter and across the empty living room towards the terrace.

B: "Follow me."

It takes Lucas a few seconds to move. He keeps staring at his signature, right next to Brooke's, on this simple piece of paper before him. A plan for a future together. In black and white. Well, in red pen on yellow paper. But, a plan, nonetheless. He gets scared for the first time. But, it's the good kind. The way we get scared when we finally have what we want, because we realize that now we have everything to lose. He turns around and sees that Brooke is already out on the terrace. With champagne in one hand, she's holding onto the terrace railing with the other. Staring down at the beach like she's watching a specific someone or something unfold. He quickly turns around and puts the notepad back in her purse. Taking his champagne glass off the counter, he follows her out onto the terrace. When he finally joins her, she points to a group of teenagers on the beach.

B: "That's our son down there."

L: "Too far to see faces. How can you tell?"

B: "Who else would be wearing a leather jacket on the beach in August?"

L: "Right. Lily must be introducing him to her friends."

For a few minutes, they both forget all that doesn't fit in life. Smiling, they just watch their son. The reason they are back in each other's lives. The reason they seem to get up and breathe every day. And, the reason they are risking everything to rebuild a new home. When Lucas looks over to Brooke, he sees that her expression is turning from one of contentment to worry.

B: "This isn't going to work."

Confused, Lucas takes Brooke's glass and puts both hers and his on the terrace floor behind them.

L: "Why?"

B: "Brandon. We made this whole list, but we forgot the most important thing. What do we tell Brandon?"

L: "The truth."

B: "We can't. I don't want to lie to him, but he will tell the court."

L: "I know. What if we tell him a version of the truth?"

B: "What do you mean?"

L: "We don't tell him about the pre-nup."

B: "So, he won't know we plan to annul the marriage when we get custody."

L: "No. We tell him that we want to be married, because we want to be a family. With him. That we take this seriously and we believe it's the right thing to do."

B: "He'll know we're not in love."

L: "Then, we tell him people get married for all kinds of reasons. And, ours is that we love him."

B: "Do you think that'll be enough?"

Lucas thinks for a moment, looks over at the beach to Brandon and then back at Brooke, who's been watching their son the whole time she's been on the terrace.

L: "No. We need to break one of your rules."

Curious, Brooke looks back at him.

B: "Which one?"

L: "Separate bedrooms."

B: "No way."

L: "Brooke, your one exception...me moving in when Social Services visits...it won't work with Brandon living here. He needs to see that we sleep in the same room. Or else, we may as well come clean ourselves."

Brooke looks away. She's staring out into the ocean, the waves, the air. Anywhere, but at Lucas. The last time she woke up in the same room, in the same bed, as him, she couldn't wait to run away. How is she supposed to do that every morning? Not to mention, fall asleep every night when he's only a few feet away. But, she knows he's right. There's no other way. So, still avoiding his eyes, she agrees with one condition.

B: "Ok. But, separate beds."

L: "Of course."

B: "There's a million ways this can go wrong."

L: "But, it won't. You'll see. How about that toast?"

He leans down, picks up the champagne glasses, and holds one out for her.

L: "To Mr. and Mrs. Scott."

Lucas raises his glass, but rolling her eyes, Brooke refuses to take hers.

L: "Ok. To Mr. and Mrs. Davis?"

She finally takes her glass and makes a toast to her liking.

B: "How about to a profitable business partnership? You said it best...no hearts, no flowers. To leaving the past in the past, and looking forward. To a fresh start."

L: "To our new home."

B: "Exactly."

They clink their glasses and drink. Lucas takes one short sip, but Brooke downs the entire glass. Sometimes, even the best of us need liquid courage. Putting the empty glass on the floor, Brooke walks over to the left edge of the terrace to get closer to Brandon. She looks up and sees that the sun begins to set over the horizon, slowly turning the sky a thousand different shades of blue, orange, pink, red, and purple. When she feels Lucas approach and take his place by her side, she looks over to him.

B: "We can do this, right?"

L: "Don't start brooding on me now, cheery."

He smiles at her. A smile that takes her back seventeen years. And, memories come crowding in upon her senses. Like she can feel the floor on which they sat side by side. She can hear him promise he wouldn't hurt her again. And, know that she believed him. Like she can taste his kiss. Live, all over again, the very first moment in her life when she felt at home. She wonders if the man before her can do what that boy did all those years ago. Make her feel protected, invincible, loved. But, then she remembers that the home she thought she had with that boy turned out to be just an illusion. That the girl she used to be was left in ashes when her safe place burned down. Memories can be pungent and vivid, even consoling. But, they are also inert and nostalgic. Failing to connect to the real, the present, the permanent. That boy's promises and that girl's naivety are a thing of the past. A whole different lifetime. Ancient history. This Brooke Davis and this Lucas Scott are all grown up. They're only partners in crime, not friends. And this marriage...well, it's one of convenience, not love. Shifting her gaze back on her son now, Brooke knows that none of that really matters. Because, unless the three of them find a way to put down their masks and tell the truth as naked as it comes straight from the heart, they have no chance of turning these four walls into a home.

"_Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,  
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."  
~John Howard Payne, Home! Sweet Home!, 1823_

**Author's Note: **The concept of BL's pre-nuptial conversation is loosely based on a storyline originally written in 2004 by the writing team led by Megan McTavish of ABC's All My Children.


	13. A Step Down the Sea's Throat

"_For last year's words belong to last year's language. And next year's words await another voice. What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from."  
~T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding_

Most of the time, there are no clear beginnings or ends in life. Only once in a blue moon, constant progress bows down to clean breaks. Change at the margins is more common than absolute reinventions. Staying where we are, how we are, requires minimal effort. Yes, we all crave novelty, but the fear of leaving behind the familiar and the predictable condemns us to live in a vacuum of dissatisfaction. However, there are those rare moments in life when the only choice is to wipe the slate clean. Start over. Resolve to fix what is wrong and broken. Leave the _last year's language _behind and find _another voice. _It's up to us how many disappointments we cling to and what grudges we release when we _make an end_. Which baggage we carry into the new_ beginning_. Sometimes, we are alone when we _step to the block_. And, sometimes, we find a strange ally to lean on _in the fire_. The last person we would expect becomes the only one to help us survive _down the sea's throat_.

Today is the day Brooke Davis finds out that Lucas Scott is that strange ally she needs in her quest to start over. Today is the day they move in together, with their son, into their new home. All morning, their house has been abuzz with delivery crews bringing in furniture and Brooke's belongings from New York. All three of her personal assistants are in Tree Hill. The first is at the house supervising the deliveries. The second is shopping for odds and ends like linens, towels, batteries and light bulbs. The third is at Karen's house managing the crew loading Lucas and Brandon's belongings into a van. All this chaos must end today, because tomorrow is their son's birthday. And, neither Brooke nor Lucas can think of a better day to wake up under the same roof. To bring an end to the way they were, and make a beginning together with their son. Taking a break from moving duties, they're having lunch at Riverside Café, discussing how this mutual jump _down the sea's throat _is really going to work.

L: "I told Brandon to come over around five. Is that ok?"

B: "Yes, that's perfect. The place should be in a decent shape by then. Where is our wild child?"

L: "I don't know. He left with Lily about an hour ago. I'm practicing being a trusting parent."

B: "Hmm...and, how's that going?"

L: "Miserably. I must have thought about calling him a hundred times."

B: "Oh, thank God. I thought I was the only one considering injecting a mini GPS under his skin."

Over the last few days any time Brooke visited Karen's, she rarely found her son at home. They had lunch once and dinner twice, both times in almost complete silence. Brandon has yet to ask one question or show an ounce of excitement over the move. In fact, Brooke is afraid he may have been wearing the same black t-shirt and jeans the whole time. He's simply going through the motions of his required thirty-days as robotic as teenagers come. When Lucas hears Brooke's suggestion to add a mini GPS to the robot, he drops his fork and stares at her just a little shocked.

B: "What? I wasn't being serious."

L: "We'll have to set some house rules tonight."

B: "Like what?"

L: "Curfew, chores, girls in his room...you know, the usual stuff."

B: "You're forgetting that, for me, the usual means no rules. But, I'll do my best being...well, unusual, for his sake."

Remembering that his own mom was the first to set any ground rules for Brooke, Lucas smiles.

L: "You're concerned enough to want to put a tracking chip on him. The parenting thing, the unusual as you call it, already comes easy to you. Follow my lead?"

Bringing her right hand up to her eyebrow, palm down, Brooke salutes him, navy style.

B: "Aye aye, captain."

L: "Shall we go back to our respective corners among the boxes?

B: "Before we go, I wanted to talk to you about something. The legal documents arrived this morning."

L: "The pre-nup?"

B: "Yes, and the list of everything we need for the marriage license."

L: "When do we tie the knot?"

B: "There's just one more thing we have to discuss before that."

Lucas can see on Brooke's face that she's nervous, even dreading what she has to tell him. So, he puts down his soda bottle, leans back in his chair and prepares for the storm to hit.

L: "Why do I feel like it's bad news?"

B: "Depends on the size of your ego these days."

L: "I'd say a mediocre, but rising 6.5."

B: "That's good. I was thinking more a turbulent yet ambitious 5.8."

L: "Thanks, I'm flattered."

B: "Anytime."

L: "All right, spill it."

B: "I asked the lawyers to look into the best way to dissolve the marriage when we're ready. They sent me the list of conditions North Carolina law considers valid grounds for annulment."

L: "So, sleeping in separate beds is not enough?"

B: "Not exactly. How do you feel about mental incapacity?"

L: "You want me to officially declare that I'm too retarded to understand simple marriage vows?"

B: "Or impotent. That would work, too."

As soon as the words come out, she cringes and looks away. Lucas smacks his forehead and exhales a sigh of relief that confuses Brooke briefly until he unleashes his objection.

L: "Oh good, I was scared for a second. Stupid me. So, I can still claim to be a genius. But, just one who can't get it up? Yes, let's do that. I feel so much better now. Unbelievable. I'll have you know I'm quite potent. In what universe did you think I'd be ok with saying otherwise, Brooke?"

B: "In the one where we can't get an annulment otherwise."

L: "There has to be another way."

B: "We're not under sixteen, related or bigamists."

She stops, and with both hands on the table, leans over several inches closer to him. She almost whispers as if trying to hide the question from anyone who might be eavesdropping.

B: "You're not already married, are you?"

The same tact is not necessary for a slightly amused Lucas.

L: "Oh, you mean my other wife? She's cool with sharing."

Leaning back, Brooke smiles.

B: "I can be very discreet about your supposed shortcomings."

She makes sure to use air-quotes while she says _shortcomings_, which annoys him even more.

B: "It's the only way, Lucas."

L: "Uhm...no, it isn't. I strongly suggest divorce."

B: "And, I strongly reject that idea. We have to be separated for twelve months before we can get divorced. Do you want to wait a year?"

L: "Well, why can't _you_ be the clinically stupid one? Or the sexually dysfunctional?"

B: "Who's going to believe that?"

L: "But, it's so easy to believe when it's me?"

B: "Well..."

She pouts and with raised eyebrows, averts her eyes. The pretend-innocence doesn't fool Lucas.

L: "Oh, this conversation keeps getting better and better."

B: "Ok. Take a moment, un-bunch your panties. There's one more alternative. We could go out of state. South Carolina allows for a few other conditions."

L: "If you ask me to claim to be a zombie or some bloodsucking creature of the night..."

B: "How do you feel about STDs?"

L: "You've got to be kidding me."

B: "All right, all right. There's also fraud or duress. One of us misrepresents himself or compels the other into marriage? It's not exactly a complete lie."

L: "You feel tricked? Threatened? By me?"

Lucas knows full well this marriage is his doing. He had to work overtime to convince Brooke to even consider it. But, he thought that he was simply giving her a nudge, making her see how it is the right thing to do. The possibility that she feels forced and under duress and that he's the one putting her in that position shocks and hurts him. And, it's written all over his face.

B: "No. God, no. That's not what I mean. It's both of us, right? We both feel compelled to do this. By the situation, life...the desire to hold onto Brandon. I mean, without him, we wouldn't be getting married. We can work with that, right?"

The shock disappears. But, the hurt remains. A different kind of hurt this time. _Without him, we wouldn't be getting married._ It's true. Without their son, they wouldn't even be within the borders of the same state, leave aside planning this new beginning together. That's how far apart the years have pushed them.

L: "Right."

B: "So, South Carolina?"

L: "South Carolina. We can make a road trip out of it. Take Brandon. Our very first family vacation."

B: "You mean drag him kicking and screaming?"

L: "I'll bring the chloroform, if you drive the getaway car."

Brooke laughs. Real, deep, raspy, infectious. Even her head falls back for a moment and her signature dimples make an appearance. And, he smiles at the realization that he can still make her laugh like this after all these years. When she becomes aware of the joke's implication, her hand rushes to her mouth and she stops laughing.

B: "My God. If Social Services heard me laughing at the idea of kidnapping my own kid, they would take him away faster than I can blink."

L: "I won't tell, if you won't. Now, this trip...what else do we need besides the chloroform?"

B: "A couple witnesses for the ceremony. I'll ask Rachel. That way we can also stay at her parents' house in Myrtle Beach."

L: "Brandon can be my witness. I don't think we should wait too long. When shall we go?"

B: "How about next weekend?"

L: "I'm wide open."

B: "There's a one day waiting period, so we have to make it a long weekend. Leave Thursday morning so we can apply for the license that afternoon. Apparently, you have to apply in person. Is that ok?"

L: "That's fine."

B: "We should tell Brandon about the trip tonight."

Lucas rubs his hands together as he smiles nervously.

L: "Oh, joy. He'll be so happy for us. Get ready for major fireworks."

B: "Trust me. I'm unpacking the box with my flak jacket first."

For the next few minutes, they finish their lunch in relative silence. Yes, they are both a bit anxious and restless about the move, the marriage and the annulment. And, yes, for most people, those would be reasons good enough to get lost in thoughts. For Brooke and Lucas, there's one more mystery ingredient...Brandon. This new beginning they are planning does not work without him. Without his buy-in and active participation. Only their son can decide if he's willing to listen, forgive, and let go of the grudge. Only he can lighten the load hanging over all three of their heads. And, they both know how much they need him to breathe life into this new home.

Now in their garden, Brooke is walking ahead of Lucas towards their front door. She's laughingly reprimanding him for mocking her earlier suggestions.

B: "Impotence is no joke, Lucas. One in every ten men. That's all I'm saying."

L: "Speaking for the men of America, thank you so much for your concern."

She takes out her keys from her pursue and unlocks the front door. While she enters the foyer, she's looking back at Lucas, joking and laughing.

B: "Look, I'm this close to changing my mind about the annulment. Don't be surprised if you end up with an STD, oh say about three months into our marriage. I'm thinking you should have gonor..."

She has to stop mid-word for a split second when she turns around and is faced with the last person she expects staring at her.

B: "...rhea. Kyle."

With a stoic expression on his face, Kyle looks over to Lucas and then back at her again. A shocked and panicked Brooke tires to put on a welcoming smile.

B: "When did you get here?"

K: "Half an hour ago."

B: "What are you...what are you doing here?"

K: "Oh, I don't know. I thought my girlfriend could use help unpacking. But, I see now that you have your gonorrhoea-infected husband-to-be for that."

Kyle walks around Brooke towards the door. She reaches out to grab his arm, but she can't hold onto it.

B: "That was...a joke. Kyle, wait!"

He stops in front of Lucas for a moment and looks him straight in the eye.

K: "You must be the infamous Lucas Scott. She's all yours. Good luck."

Kyle goes out the door with Brooke running after him not far behind. Lucas is left standing alone in the foyer trying to figure out what just happened. He decides to follow them out and remains out of sight but within earshot. Chasing a fast walking Kyle through the garden towards the gate, Brooke yells after him.

B: "Kyle! Kyle, please stop. Kyle!"

He finally stops and turns around to face her. It's the first time his voice shows hints of anger.

K: "Why, Brooke? Why should I stop?"

B: "I need to talk to you. It's not what you think."

K: "So, you're not getting married to that man? The father of your son?"

B: "Yes. Yes, I am, but..."

That's all he needs to hear to turn back around and head for the gate again.

B: "Wait! I'm doing it because I have to. Not because I want to. I don't love him. I love you!"

She manages to find the only three words to stop him. It's the first time Brooke tells Kyle that she loves him. Two years of an exclusive, committed relationship and a marriage proposal, but Brooke has never uttered _love_ before. Maybe it's genuine. Or maybe, it's the last resort. The way to make everything ok again. To suppress the fear of losing one of the only two allies she's had in years. The fear of an end. The fear of letting go of the familiar and predictable. Brooke doesn't have time to figure out what the words mean when she finally catches up to Kyle. She walks around him and stops in front of him. She exhales and looks straight into his eyes.

B: "We have to get married to get custody of Brandon."

K: "What?"

She reaches for his hand and leads him to a bench in the garden. While they sit, she explains all about what Lucas said in the courtroom and why the marriage is necessary. Kyle listens in silence until Brooke finishes.

K: "Why didn't you come to me? I am a lawyer, Brooke. You don't have to do this. I can get you out of it."

B: "I spoke to several lawyers. They all agreed this is only way to guarantee the outcome. As soon as we have permanent custody, the marriage is over. What you heard about the STD thing, it was me joking about grounds for annulment. That's it."

K: "Where does that leave us?"

B: "It's complicated."

K: "No, it isn't. I love you. And, unless I was hallucinating, you just told me that you loved me, too."

B: "And, I do. But, I have to show Brandon that I'm taking this marriage seriously. I can't jeopardize him telling the court the truth."

K: "So what? You want to pretend we're just friends? Better yet, that I don't exist?"

B: "It's only temporary. Three months, six at most."

K: "I can't believe this. What happens after the six months?"

B: "I wish I knew. I don't even know what happens an hour from now."

K: "Let me get this straight. You want me to sit idly by for months, pretending to be just a colleague, while you get married to some other guy? Not only that, but you don't even know what happens to us when, or if, your marriage is over."

Brooke sighs and looks away.

B: "I know I'm asking you for a lot here. And, I understand if you want to walk away. But, I hope that you don't, because I don't want to lose you."

K: "Say yes."

Confused, Brooke turns to look at him.

B: "To what?"

K: "Say you'll marry me. When this farce of a marriage is over, say that you'll wear _my_ ring, be _my_ wife. Say yes, and I'll wait for you. For as long as it takes."

Brooke looks down on the garden floor and bites her bottom lip. Her thoughts drift away to mundane little things like how she should plant a bed of daisies to the right of the bench they are sitting at or how she left the folder with the Chinese silk contract at Rachel's house. Anything but saying yes. Or saying no. Anything but the fact that all she wants to do right now is to remain silent.

K: "You can't, can you?"

B: "Kyle, I...it's not that simple."

K: "For me, it is."

Before either can say anything else, they are interrupted by one of Brooke's assistants coming through the front gate. It's the assistant whom she sent over to Karen's house earlier to supervise the moving crew bringing Lucas and Brandon's belongings.

Assistant #3: "Ms. Davis, where should Mr. Scott's boxes go?"

It takes Kyle a second to figure out what that question means before he looks at her quizzically.

K: "He's moving in with you?"

B: "Yes. But, only because we have to make the marriage look real."

Kyle hastily stands up and starts pacing back and forth a few steps in front of the gate.

K: "Of course. Married couples live together. How silly of me!"

Brooke stands up as well and starts pleading with him again.

B: "Kyle, please."

K: "Tell the girl where to take the boxes, Brooke."

Knowing what the answer would do to Kyle, Brooke simply looks down silently. Having heard the van park from inside the house, her second assistant comes out to guide the crew.

Assistant #2: "You're late. Come on. All this stuff goes into the master bedroom."

Expecting Kyle's reaction, Brooke cringes at those words.

K: "The master bedroom! Your bedroom, right? After all, husband and wife sleep in the same bed."

B: "No! Separate beds. I swear."

K: "I should have seen this coming. Really, it's my fault."

Brooke holds onto his shoulders with both hands and looks up at his eyes.

B: "No, none of this is your fault. There's nothing coming. This is all make-believe. It doesn't have to change anything between us."

Stepping back, he pushes her hands off his shoulders, and shakes his head.

K: "It changes everything, Brooke. But, the truth is I got myself into this. I held onto a relationship that was always meant to end. I held onto you, the woman who never wanted to belong to me. That's all my doing. Not yours. I have to get out of here."

Brooke watches Kyle walk out the gate. He stops for a second, but doesn't look back. She takes a step closer in hope that he may change his mind, but he starts walking away. So, there among the crew walking past her with Lucas's boxes, she stands alone in what feels like the shadow of an end. Sometimes, when we start over, we end up leaving behind even the parts of our past we wished we could keep. Brooke wonders if all clean breaks come with the same sinking feeling that occupies her chest. Then, she remembers what she has to gain, the hand over her heart somehow soothes the pain. She turns around to go back inside the house and sees Lucas standing behind her.

L: "Brooke, are you ok?"

B: "How much of that did you hear?"

L: "Enough. I can take care of things here if you want to go after him."

B: "I can't. Brandon will be here soon and I need to get his room ready before that."

Brooke walks around him and back into the house. The first thing she does is to dismiss all three of her personal assistants for the day. Then, she goes up the stairs and directly into Brandon's room where the furniture is already delivered. When Lucas follows her, he sees through the open door that Brooke is staring out the window. Her hand goes for her cheek wiping off a tear or two. She exhales and shakes her head. Walking over to the shopping bags on the floor, she takes out the linens and starts making Brandon's bed.

L: "Hey, do you want some help?"

B: "No, I'm ok."

L: "I'll leave you alone."

Lucas turns around to leave, but Brooke's voice stops him.

B: "Lucas? Stay. Maybe you can help hook up his TV. I've never been good with electronics."

L: "Sure."

For the next few minutes, they attend to their respective tasks in silence. Brooke puts the crimson pillowcases on the pillows and the grey duvet cover on the comforter. She's always found a comforting ritual in tidying up a bed. She knows there are a million things she can't control in life. But, it makes her feel better to be fully in charge of the placement of the pillows or how low the duvet hangs off the bed. Like there's order back in her life. Even if it's temporary. As she reaches inside the shopping bags for the blanket, Lucas takes a break from hooking up the cable TV to check in with her.

L: "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

B: "No. Let's just put his room together. For now."

And, that's exactly what they do for the next hour. When the TV is hooked up, the bed is made, and the books are lined up on the shelves, Lucas goes to their bedroom to start unpacking his boxes as well. When he finally joins Brooke downstairs, he sees that she's changed into dark blue skinny jeans and a loose white T-shirt. It makes him smile that the-always-put-together Brooke Davis isn't even wearing shoes. When she barely acknowledges his presence, he goes straight for the boxes himself, letting her have the space and the silence she seems to need. In the company of the right person and engaged in just the right task, there's a certain peace to stillness. Sometimes, we don't need to words to communicate. Especially all we want to say is that we are grateful for the unquestioning company. The unpacking continues until the kitchen is stocked, the towels and linens are securely stowed away in their closets, the cushions and blankets find their respective sofas and armchairs. Neither realizes that their son is an hour late until they hear the gate bell ringing. As if on cue, they both drop the boxes they have been attending to and nervously start walking towards the front door. Lucas's hand beats Brooke's in pressing the button letting Brandon in through the gate. They simply stare at the closed door for a minute until they hear him knocking. They look at each other, take a deep breath, and getting the nod from Brooke, Lucas goes for the door handle. He doesn't even feel Brooke's nails digging into his arm. And, she doesn't even realize she's doing it.

B: "Hey."

L: "Did you have any trouble finding the place?"

Brandon (Br): "No."

What he doesn't tell them is that he's been walking up and down Ocean Drive delaying this very moment ever since Lily dropped him off at the gate an hour ago.

B: "Come on in. What do you think?"

Over the last three days, Brooke invited him several times to see his new home, but Brandon was never interested. He knew that if he saw the place, it would be real all of a sudden. But, we can only delay reality for so long. So, this first time Brandon sees his new home, reality punches him straight in the gut. The house is simply amazing, unlike any he has ever lived in or seen. But, that's only for him to know. At least for now.

Br: "Whatever."

Watching Brandon walk past them and into the living room, Lucas leans in closer to Brooke and whispers.

L: "Have I mentioned that's his favorite word? I'm betting we hear it at least a thousand times just tonight. That's one."

Ignoring Lucas, Brooke follows her son into the living room. She puts on a wide smile as she tries to get a reaction out of him.

B: "I'll give you a tour. Obviously this is the living room. And, here's the kitchen. Stocked with all kinds of food."

Brooke opens the door to the pantry.

B: "The right side is all about the munchies. Top is for soda. Do you want one?"

Br: "I'll take a Mountain Dew."

When Brooke throws him a can, he gets caught off guard but manages to catch it anyway.

B: "I don't know your favorites yet, but we can go shopping for groceries later."

Br: "Whatever."

Brandon walks towards the hallway, and Lucas looks at Brooke and holds up two fingers.

L: "That's two."

Brooke lightly hits his shoulder and whispers back.

B: "Stop it."

They both follow Brandon down the hallway towards the rooms in the back.

L: "The room on the right is the study. Left door leads to a bathroom. And, at the end of the hallway is our bedroom."

Br: "Your bedroom? You're sharing a room?"

Brooke and Lucas both give him a nod of affirmation.

Br: "This ought to be interesting."

B: "Your room is upstairs. Would you like to see it?"

Without a response, Brandon just goes up the stairs and they follow. He goes in the first door at the top of the stairs and sees an almost bare room with a double bed, a nightstand and a dresser.

Br: "This'll do."

B: "No, this isn't your room. It's the guest room. We haven't had a chance to do anything with this room yet."

L: "Your room is next door."

There's a hint of disappointment in Brandon's face as he walks out. He starts to think that such a nice room all to himself was too good to be true anyway. That is until he actually sees his own room. The first thing he notices is the floor-to-ceiling windows that make him feel like he's in open water. Two single beds with dark wood frames are all made up in grey and crimson linens. On the tall dresser against the wall is a stereo with an iPod dock. There's a Mac laptop on the desk next to a tall bookcase full of books. Across from the beds, is a 32" flat screen television hooked up to a DVD player and an Xbox. There's a brown leather armchair by the window that he thinks is perfect for reading books. And, that thought pisses him off royally. That isn't his bed; he'll end up sleeping on the floor. That isn't his chair, he reads on the pavements. And, all these electronics...well, Brandon Walker's affections are not for sale.

B: "The second bed is for when you have a guest over. We can exchange them for one double bed if you'd like. Uhm...I know the walls are pretty bare, but I didn't exactly know what posters 16-year-old boys put up these days."

L: "The books are just a general collection. You can replace them with any of your choosing."

When Brandon doesn't say anything, the pressure gets to Brooke.

B: "You hate it."

In fact, he loves it. Especially the part of him that forgets he's supposed to be resisting this new beginning. His mind reminds him that there's no use in loving temporary beds. No, one only puts up with transitionary resting places. And, he has no intention of getting attached to material things.

B: "Nothing is set in stone. We can start from scratch."

L: "It's your room. You can do whatever you want with it."

B: "Think of this as just a start. A suggestion. A..."

Br: "Stop! It's fine. No need to change anything."

B: "Ok."

L: "Your suitcase is here in the closet."

That is the first thing they say that gets a genuine reaction out of Brandon, but not exactly the kind they are hoping for. Upset, he runs to open the closet and kneels down on the floor to check the suitcase.

Br: "You looked through it?"

L: "No, no, no. I didn't. I just put it in there."

Br: "Just stay away from my stuff."

Lucas looks at Brooke apologetically for screwing up, even if it was unintentional. She tries to break the tension by distracting Brandon.

B: "Uhm...your bathroom is through this door. You have some basic toiletries in there. Toothbrush, soap, shampoo, razor...but, we can add whatever you need to the shopping list. Oh, and towels are in the bathroom cabinet."

Br: "Fine."

B: "I think that's it. Right, Lucas?"

L: "Yeah. How about we leave you alone to settle in for a while?"

B: "Come down for dinner in a half hour?"

Br: "Whatever."

They slowly step out, closing the door behind them. As they take the stairs down, Brooke smiles and voices what Lucas is thinking.

B: "And, that's three."

About an hour later, hunger finally convinces Brandon to venture down the stairs himself. He hears laughter as he approaches the living room and when he peeks in, he sees Brooke and Lucas drinking beer and unpacking boxes. It feels like he's intruding in on a private moment, so he chooses to hide around the corner by the banister and listens to his parents' almost-playful-sounding conversation.

L: "Listen, all I'm saying is that I want a lock on the bathroom door."

B: "Lucas! I am not going to barge in while you're in the shower."

L: "Well, if history is any indication..."

Brooke throws one of the sofa cushions at Lucas and he catches it in mid-air.

B: "I did no such thing!"

L: "Hmm...selective amnesia. Must be nice."

B: "More like you're re-writing history. Hey, can you give me that box?"

L: "Sure."

Lucas hands the box to Brooke, who cuts the tape around it and takes out the picture frames inside. She remains staring at an empty silver frame in her hand for a few seconds before she places it on the fireplace mantle. It's the one which has always been meant for Brandon.

L: "You know that's missing a picture, right?"

B: "Yes, I know, Mr. Perceptive. It's just that I have this feeling...like it won't be empty for long."

Before Lucas can question what she means, they are interrupted by the doorbell.

L: "I'll get it."

As Lucas walks over to the front door, Brandon appears out of his hiding place. Lucas smiles at him as they cross each other in the hallway.

L: "Perfect timing. Dinner's here."

Lucas lets the delivery guy in as Brandon walks into the living room to a nervously-waiting Brooke.

B: "Hi. Is everything ok with the room?"

Br: "Fine."

B: "We ordered pizza for dinner. Figured everyone likes pizza, right?"

Brooke gets upset for a moment for not knowing if her son even likes pizza. And, if he does, what topping he prefers. Sometimes, the silly little things hit us harder than the big ones. Lucas returns with three large pizza boxes and puts them on the dining table. In their home, all the furniture except for that dining table is brand new. The table is the solid oak fourteen-seater from her apartment in New York. As she sees her son and Lucas sit down for what can basically be construed as their first family dinner in their new home, a touch of melancholy takes over. All of a sudden, she doesn't feel so foolish for having bought such a big table. After Lucas opens the boxes and distributes the napkins around, he notices the motionless Brooke staring at them.

L: "Hey, you ok?"

B: "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Hungry."

L: "We've got cheese, pepperoni and veggies."

B: "Drinks anyone?"

Brandon nods at the beer bottle Brooke's holding.

Br: "I'll have what you're having."

B: "Mountain Dew it is."

After a trip to the fridge, Brooke comes back with beer bottles for Lucas and her, and a soda can for Brandon. They all sit around the table eating in silence for a while. When Brandon goes for pepperoni for his first slice, Brooke smiles and makes a mental note for the future. A couple slices and half a beer bottle later, Brooke looks over at Lucas. Thinking that it's perfect time for the ground rules discussion, she motions with her head for Lucas to start talking. When he doesn't get the hint, she kicks him under the table. As a confused Brandon drops his slice and looks down, she realizes that she must have hit the wrong leg.

Br: "What the hell? Did you just kick me?"

B: "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. That was...I'm really sorry."

Br: "Eew...what is this? Are you two playing some sort of sadistic footsie under the table?"

B: "No! Nothing sadistic. And, no footsie whatsoever. God, no! It was just a reflex. I'm sorry."

When a laughing Lucas almost snorts his beer, Brooke hits him hard on the shoulder.

B: "Lucas! It's not funny."

Br: "Remind me not to sit anywhere close to you next time."

After another minute of uncomfortable silence, Lucas finally remembers what he was supposed to do.

L: "So, now that we're living together, we should talk about some ground rules. For all of us. Do you want to start? Is there anything you need from us?"

Br: "Stay away from my stuff. Respect my privacy. Leave me alone. Oh, and knock. That's all I need."

B: "Ok, we can do that."

L: "That's fair. There are a few rules we have to set for you, too. First, dinner. You come home for dinner, 8pm, every night. If you have to miss it, you have to call us ahead of time."

Brandon makes no eye contact and looks like he's barely listening. He just keeps eating.

Br: "Hmm..."

B: "Curfew. 11pm every night. If you need to stay out later than that, you ask and we'll discuss. We'll revisit curfew when school starts."

Br: "School. Interesting."

L: "If you can't be home before 11pm for whatever reason, you call us. Tell us exactly the reason, where you are, who you're with."

Br: "Call, got it."

L: "Chores...we take turns loading the dishwasher, taking the trash out every night. You do your own laundry."

B: "Well, we'll have a maid."

L: "The unusual. Remember, Brooke?"

B: "Right. You do your own laundry. Once a week."

Br: "Laundry, check."

L: "You show us the same respect when it comes to our space, knock on doors, etc."

B: "You can have friends over if you ask us first. No girlfriend sleepovers and your door stays open if there is a girl with you."

L: "There's a computer, phone, and cable TV in your room. We trust that you be responsible. So, no limits right now, but that can always change if you abuse our trust."

Br: "No internet porn. Crystal clear."

B: "If you stick to these rules, you get $50 per week allowance. In cash, every Sunday night. Your clothes, food, books, lodging, cell phone are all provided for. So, that's just pocket money for whatever else you need. You will also get a credit card in our name. It's for emergencies only. Any extravagant unapproved purchase will cause me to bring scissors to plastic."

L: "You can always get a part-time job, if you think that number's too low. When the summer's over and school starts, we'll go over these rules again."

Br: "Is that all?"

B: "Lucas?"

L: "Yes."

Brandon simply stares at them. Silent. Aloof. Perfect poker face.

B: "Any objections?"

L: "Brandon?"

Br: "Excuse me, I just needed a second. You know...to gag on the inside. It's like I'm stuck in a Brady Bunch episode. Are you serious with this shit?"

Caught off guard by his reaction, Brooke and Lucas don't know how to respond.

Br: "I don't answer morally or otherwise to you posers. Neither of you are Mary fucking Poppins. Stop acting like one."

L: "Listen to me..."

Br: "No, you listen to me. Why do you insist on pissing me off? I agreed to live here, with you, for thirty days. Well, now, twenty-four days, thank God. I didn't agree to be deprogrammed. I'm a package deal with all kinds of undesirable behaviors. Believe me, this systematic manipulation you're trying...it does not work on me. I come and go when I want, I don't touch the trash. Oh, and keep your money."

He gets up to leave, but sternness in Lucas's voice stops him.

L: "Sit down."

B: "Lucas, please let me. Brandon, these rules are for your own good. I grew up without little, if any, parental supervision. I know what it means to live without rules. Maybe, better than anyone. And, I would have given anything for just one person to care enough to set a curfew. To be concerned enough to want to know where I am, who I hang out with or..."

Brandon hastily cuts her off and yells with such intensity that his voice reverberates throughout the house.

Br: "Don't ever compare me to you!"

B: "Do you think we're faking kindness? That we are lying when say we're concerned about you?"

Br: "Check you out. You're a lullaby-singing, rule-setting, rockstar mommy!"

The road between vicious anger and scornful sarcasm seems so fluid for Brandon. And, both ends have a way of shooting Brooke right through the heart. All she can do is stare at him from where she sits with teary eyes and quivering lips.

Br: "Please start crying. This conversation hasn't reached its pathetic threshold yet."

The words have less of an impact on Lucas who manages to keep his calm.

L: "I know what you're doing. And, it's not going to work."

Br: "What the hell are you talking about?"

L: "You can rage and rebel all you want. Yell, throw around insults. We're not going anywhere. There's no return policy. These undesirable behaviors you think you have, we want them. All of them."

B: "These rules are not meant to change you. They are simply going to make living together a lot easier. If we know you'll be home by eleven, you'll never have to be embarrassed by one of us tracking you down when you're with your friends."

Br: "Are we done here, officers?"

L: "Just as soon as you tell us you understand the rules."

Br: "Oh, I understand them perfectly. But, you should also understand something. You can set as many rules as you want, and I'll follow, for now. But, in a few weeks, you'll be staring at my free ass walking out that door."

L: "Excellent."

Brandon starts to walk away again, but this time, it's Brooke's voice that stops him.

B: "Wait, there's one more thing."

Br: "What more could you possibly want?"

B: "Uhm..."

Knowing how fragile she is, Lucas reaches for her hand and takes over.

L: "We're taking a trip. We're leaving Thursday morning. For Myrtle Beach."

Br: "I'll pass. I'll be doing my laundry."

Brandon takes a few steps towards the staircase, but what Lucas says brings him to a halt.

L: "That won't work. You see, you have to come. Because, I need my best man."

Turning around, he can't hide his confusion.

Br: "What man now?"

Lucas gets up and turns to face him.

L: "Best man. We are getting married."

Br: "Am I naked? I'm usually naked in my worst nightmares."

B: "Nope, fully-clothed. And, awake, I'm afraid."

Br: "You're actually going through with that charade?"

Brooke gets up too, and walks to stand next to Lucas.

B: "It's not a charade. It's the honest, sincere truth. This is our home, now. Your home. This is a family. And, Lucas and I being married helps the three of us start over. Together. It's what we want. And, we are prepared to do whatever it takes to get what we want."

Br: "You can't seriously be asking me to stand up for you."

L: "You don't have to do anything you don't want. But, there's no one else I'd rather ask. Just think about it."

Brandon takes a couple of steps forward to stand before them with crossed arms and he just stares at them. It's like he's calling their bluff. He thinks that if he doesn't blink, they'll cave and drop the act. When the stare proves ineffective, he walks around them and picks up one last slice of pizza. Walking back towards the staircase, he's barely audible.

Br: "You know, just when I think you two can't get any more ridiculous, you manage to pull a fucking rabbit out of a hat."

When he's finally out of sight, Brooke and Lucas sit down, slowly, exhausted.

L: "That went well."

B: "I feel like I got run over by a truck. A big, fat truck. Can you see the tire tracks on my face?"

L: "Hmm..yeah, a little down the right cheek."

Brooke sighs, picks up her beer and chugs what's left in the bottle.

B: "Damn. That's my good side."

L: "You've got nothing but good sides, fiancée."

Putting down the beer bottle, Brooke smiles at him.

B: "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Brooke gets up and picks up the empty beer bottles and one of the pizza boxes. As she walks into the kitchen, Lucas grabs the remainder of the pizza boxes and follows. After throwing the bottles in the trash, Brooke leans her back against the counter and stares into space.

B: "He knows exactly how to get to me. Focused, like the proverbial laser. Locked and loaded."

L: "The kid's talented, I'll give him that. But, we've only just begun, Brooke. We both knew it wasn't going to be easy."

B: "I know. And, I'm trying to give him space. But, sometimes I just want to take him into my arms, tell him how much I love him, and beg him to forgive me. He's just so angry, Lucas."

L: "Angry, yes. But, more so afraid."

B: "Afraid?"

L: "Yes. Afraid that we'll leave him again. Afraid to be alone."

B: "What do you mean?"

L: "He's testing us. Pushing us away to see how far he can go before we give up on him. He thinks if he tries hard enough, he'll drive us away. Let's not fail the test, Brooke. We have to show him we're not going to abandon him again no matter what he does."

B: "I get that. I do. But, I just wish we could have a sign. You know? That underneath all this teen angst, he secretly wants a new beginning, too. I want to see him relax even if it's for a split second. Put down the axe for just a moment. Smile, once. But, instead, I keep banging my head against the same damn wall when I talk to him. Every time."

Lucas takes a step forward closing in the distance between them. His arms envelop her shoulders pulling her into a hug. It's instinct. Habit. Second nature. It's what he's always done when he sees her hurting. He squeezes her fragile body gently first, and then firmly. With her arms around his waist, she closes her eyes and rests her head on his chest. It feels like the exact medicine she needs. The perfect gift she didn't know she wanted. Like he takes all her worries and fears and replaces them with a calm, warm feeling of safety. There's a comfort in knowing that you have company if you're about to fight the fire, that you're not alone when caught in the vortex down the sea's throat. Lucas closes his eyes and whispers.

L: "Everything's going to be all right. I promise."

His voice reminds her in whose arms she is. She immediately releases her hold, letting her arms fall down. Parting from him, she takes a step back. Neither ready to walk away yet, they both stand there looking at each other.

B: "Don't make promises you can't keep."

L: "It's been a difficult day. First Kyle, then this. Tomorrow will be better."

B: "Actually, the day's not over yet. I have one more desperate trick up my designer sleeve."

A few hours later, they are standing outside of Brandon's bedroom door ready to reveal the trick. With Lucas right behind her, Brooke carefully opens the door trying not to make too much noise. Brandon's sitting on the leather armchair by the window staring out into the ocean.

Br: "And you thought I'd be the first to break your precious rules. I believe we all agreed to knock."

B: "Sorry, we didn't want to wake you up. Your light was off."

Br: "What do you want?"

B: "Can we come in for a minute?"

Br: "It's your house."

They walk in, and while Brooke closes the door, Lucas switches one of the floor lamps on.

B: "We have something for you."

He takes out a little black box and hands it to his son. Untying the red ribbon around it, Brandon opens the box. Inside are a couple keys on a keychain which is a metal no-smoking sign.

B: "It's your house, too. The big key is for the gate outside, the small is for the front door. The keychain...well, that's optional."

L: "One more thing."

Brooke reaches into a small brown paper bag and takes out a vanilla cupcake topped with chocolate icing and colored sprinkles. She digs into the bag again, and this time, finds a short yellow candle to put on top of the cupcake.

B: "I forgot the matches."

Looking over to Brandon, Lucas holds out his hand.

L: "Something tells me you have a lighter."

Brandon sighs, takes out a lighter from his back pocket, and hands it to Lucas. As he lights the candle, Brooke looks at her watch.

B: "It's midnight. We wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday."

L: "Make a wish."

Br: "Are you sure you want me to do that? You're not the biggest fans of my one and only wish."

When it's clear Brandon's not going to take the cupcake, Brooke puts it on his dresser instead.

B: "As of thirty seconds ago, you're a year older. A brand new age. And, you get one single wish. Don't waste it. Happy birthday, Brandon."

L: "Happy birthday, son."

As they walk out of his room, Lucas turns off the light leaving Brandon alone in the dark, just as they found him. Except for the flickering light from the candle. He stares after them at the closed door for a second until his eyes turn towards the cupcake. He goes over to his dresser and picks it up. When he closes his eyes, a faint smile comes across his face. He takes a deep breath and makes a wish. That one single wish for the brand new age. The time it takes to blow out one birthday candle...that's how long the promise of a new beginning lasts...until the old disappointments and grudges come flooding in. He quickly puts the cupcake back on the dresser and grabs his new set of keys. He sneaks out the house unnoticed by Brooke and Lucas, who are in their room getting ready to go to bed. In complete silence. Maybe a little sad, somewhat anxious, and a whole lot hopeful. While he's brushing his teeth, she combs her hair at the vanity table. While she changes in the walk-in closet, he does so in the bathroom. As if in synch, they pull the covers off their respective beds simultaneously. Like a well-oiled machine. Out of each other's way. Without a need for words. That is until they are both safely tucked under the covers, facing away from each other.

B: "Hey, Lucas?"

L: "Yeah?"

B: "You awake?"

L: "No."

B: "Thank you."

L: "For what?"

B: "For today. I couldn't have made it without you. I'm glad you're here."

L: "Me too. Good night, Brooke."

B: "Good night."

That's how Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott fall asleep on their first night in their new home. After everything...despite everything, they still manage to give each other the courage to survive on that _block_, in that _fire_, down that _sea's throat_. The kind of strange allies that listen when one can barely talk, embrace when words fail to comfort, and wish goodnight when sleep doesn't come easy. Yes, to fix what's wrong and broken, we all need help finding _another voice._

"_Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning, every poem an epitaph. And any action is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start."  
~T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding_


	14. Time is Eternity: Part One

"_Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity."  
~Henry Van Dyke, 19th century American author_

Time is perhaps the most paradoxical of things. Free, but priceless. Fluid and sticky. Rarely fair or forgiving. We chase aimlessly after those shreds and patches we lose, but we can never get them back. We all want more, yet we end up wasting the precious little we are given. Sometimes it runs out before ever being right. It's _slow, swift, long, short, _and_ eternal_ all at the same time. Exists and expires at once. As if the miniature wheels of a clock strike in a flash of lightning. Most of us live in a slice of time. Some are stuck in yesterday, hanging onto memories. Good and bad. Others take one day at a time, without any consequences to face tomorrow or the lessons learned yesterday. And, the rest constantly dream of and plan for a better tomorrow. Only the lucky few are able to reconcile the past with the present and the future. Make peace with time. Regardless of which slice we live in, there's one universal truth to time. None of us can buy more than the twenty-four hours in any given day or invent the sixty-first minute in the hour. And, those hours and minutes we get judge all our good deeds and transgressions.

Dawn is Brandon Walker's favorite time of the day. In only a few short minutes, the muted dark chill of the night fades away and the warmth of the sun ushers in the new day. A thousand shades of blue fill the morning sky. No one would exactly think of him as religious, but he's always considered sunrise to be the most divine experience one can have. It makes him question less the existence of God. Now, as he sinks his toes in the sand and listens to the waves, he's watching the first signs of daylight alone on the beach. The perfect stillness is interrupted when he feels a hand on his shoulder. As he turns back worried that Brooke or Lucas may have found him, he's relieved to see a friendly face.

JJ: "Morning, Brando."

Brandon (Br): "Gidget."

JJ: "Ok, you win. No nicknames."

18 years-old, 5'6'', 120lbs, single-white-female, pixie-cut brown hair, brown eyes, surfer, actress, writer, survivor. That, in a nutshell, is Jenny "JJ" Jagielski. Friend of Brandon L. Walker...not that she knows him. Not well, anyway. Her short life has been shaped by two tragedies. She was only ten years-old when her mother, Nikki, disappeared without a trace. No one knows if she's back in a drug-induced stupor or already dead from an overdose. The birth of her sister, Annabelle, and the following move to Tree Hill not only got her through the depression over the absence of her mother, but also saved her life. Literally. When she was thirteen years-old, JJ was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Stem cell transplant from Annabelle provided her with her only lifeline. And, the support of her best friends, Lily and Jamie, gave her the strength and courage to keep going. Jamie shaved all his hair off when she lost hers to chemotherapy. Lily held her hand and read to her while she fell asleep in the hospital almost every night. They eased her transition back to school where she's two years older than her classmates. In three weeks, there will be a benefit concert at Tric in honor of her third year in complete remission. Jenny Jagielski has learned the hard way the value of time. The unchangeable fact that there never is enough. She's one of those people who take it one day at a time. She already gave two years of her life to cancer, so she lives every day fully. Bold. Taking risks. Pushing the envelope. She doesn't like to wait or hold back. Because, she knows too well how fast time can run out. That there may not be a tomorrow. There's probably only one thing she's afraid of...relapse. She hasn't told anyone this, but it's why she won't let her hair grow. A year into her treatment, she made a list of things she would do once out of the hospital...learn to surf, act, write, fall in love. Lily made her add cheering to the list. She took her first surf class a month after she was given a clean bill of health. About the same time Brandon put down his board. She auditioned for the school play her first day back. And, she's had the lead role ever since. She got her first byline in a local newspaper with the article she wrote about her illness, about facing death. She was recently elected the editor of the school paper. She put off cheering as long as she could, but when she couldn't resist Lily's pleas and caved, she ended up somewhat enjoying it. There's just one more thing left on that list...JJ has yet to fall in love. That's the only thing she can't make happen until it's just the right time. Now, dropping her surfboard on the sand, she sits down next to Brandon and hugs her curled legs with both arms. They are silent for a few minutes while the sun rises high enough to illuminate their faces.

JJ: "It's beautiful, isn't it? Quiet. Peaceful. Nothing's gone wrong yet. You know what I mean?"

Br: "Yeah. The day hasn't begun to suck, I haven't made any mistakes or no one has pissed me off. Yet. I know exactly what you mean."

JJ: "For a few minutes in the morning, everything's just perfect. That's why I like to come here at daybreak. Why are you up so early?"

Br: "Can you be up if you haven't been down?"

JJ: "I'm familiar with insomnia. It's a vengeful bitch."

Still looking out over the water at the changing colors of the sky, Brandon nods his head.

Br: "It's my birthday today."

JJ: "I might be wrong about this, but you don't seem to be in much of a celebratory mood. Should I ask you why or keep my mouth shut?"

Brandon smiles at having found someone who prefers empathy to making misguided assumptions. Finally, someone who doesn't attack with a million questions right off the bat.

Br: "My mom and dad used to wake me up early on my birthday. Dad and I would go surfing at sunrise. When we'd get home, mom would cook us breakfast. French toast, powdered sugar and strawberries. That's how I spent my birthday mornings...until three years ago."

JJ: "It sounds amazing. Lily told me what happened to your parents. I'm sorry, Brandon. No one should have to go through that."

Brandon grabs a handful of sand and tosses it towards the ocean. He remains quietly staring into the evermore brighter horizon.

JJ: "I didn't know you surfed. You should come out with me sometime. It's mostly clean, left-hand breaks here. Decent offshore wind. Beginner's paradise."

Br: "I haven't been on a board since my dad..."

His voice trails off and his chin drops. He doesn't have to finish that sentence for JJ to know what he means anyway.

JJ: "Nikki and I had this tradition...that's my mother, biologically speaking. On my birthday, she would take me to the mall. We would spend the whole day shopping. Buying all kinds of things we did not need and eating way too much junk food. God, those yummy sesame pretzels dipped in chocolate! I wasn't old enough to understand then that she was spending the money she didn't have or the white powder she kept snorting in the bathroom wasn't crushed-up candy. I used to look forward to that day all year...until eight years ago, when she just didn't show up."

Br: "What happened?"

JJ: "My life stopped being a John Hughes movie. It doesn't really matter anymore. Now, I spend that day with my family in New York. Every year on my birthday, we go to a Broadway play, not a musical, real theatre. What I'm trying to say in a very roundabout way is that in time, it gets easier to let old traditions go, and you find yourself making brand new ones."

Br: "It's not the same."

JJ: "You're right. It's not. You have real, wonderful memories of two people who loved you. Who, if given the chance, would have stayed with you forever. And, I have...well, fake remains of a woman who chose to leave her only daughter. I don't want you to think I'm belittling your hurt or making light of your need for this reminiscing over better days. It's your prerogative to stay up all night, alone on a beach, whenever you want. All I'm saying is that maybe it's time to put the past where it belongs, and appreciate what you have right now."

Br: "And, what is it you think I have?"

JJ: "Well, right now, you have this annoying chick who's talking your ear off. Saying things you probably don't want to hear. But, here's the last thing she'll say. Go home, Brandon. Because, there, you have two people who are choosing you. I get it. I've got some prescription grade abandonment issues myself. So, believe me when I say that making new traditions isn't so terrible."

Without waiting for an answer, JJ gets up, zips up the back of her wetsuit, picks up her surfboard and ties it to her ankle. She starts running towards a group of surfers who're waving at her. She stops after a few steps and turns around.

JJ: "Happy birthday!"

There's a hint of jealousy in Brandon's eyes as he watches JJ run into the ocean and start to paddle out. That used to be him in open water waiting for the perfect wave. No one needs to remind Brandon Walker that he's stuck in the past. That if he squints hard enough he might conjure up a nine year-old version of himself practicing jumping up on a surfboard with his father cheering him on. That if he closes his eyes, he can still smell his mother's french toast. As he watches JJ ride her first wave of the morning, he wonders if there's anything to this concept of new traditions she seems to be so fond of. He gets up, grabs his boots off the sand and starts walking towards the left edge of the beach. As he goes up the wooden staircase that links the beach to his new home, he's unaware that Brooke has been turning the kitchen upside down for about an hour. When the noise of dropped pots and pans wakes him up, Lucas follows the smell of brewing coffee downstairs. He ends up in the kitchen, and what he sees makes him rub his eyes and look around to make sure he hasn't sleep-walked into a different house overnight. The place looks like an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. On the kitchen counter is several large bowls full of pancake batter, numerous boxes of cereal, maybe a dozen cut-up bananas, half a dozen boxes of strawberries, and bottles of orange, apple, grape, and cranberry juice. Bacon is sizzling on the stove next to a pan with four round pancakes getting golden brown. Brooke is barefoot and in pyjamas under her robe. There's flour in her pulled-up hair and right cheek, and she's juggling batter mixing and stove duty.

Lucas: "I'm sorry. Who are you? And, what culinary school did I wake up in?"

As she attends to the waffle maker, Brooke looks up at him.

Brooke: "Very funny. Don't just stand there!"

L: "All right, Martha Stewart. Put me to work."

B: "Eggs. I already made a batch of scrambled ones. You can make the poached and the fried."

L: "Are you sure that'll be enough?"

B: "You're right. We should soft boil a few. I don't know if we have enough eggs, you may have to go to the store."

L: "Did I miss inviting the entire town for breakfast?"

Brooke puts down the bowl she's been hugging close to her chest. Her hands hold on tight to the counter as she looks around at the mess in the kitchen.

B: "I don't know what he likes. I don't know if he likes waffles or pancakes. If he drinks milk or orange juice. Cereal or oatmeal. My own son! I don't even know how he likes his eggs."

Lucas walks around the counter to get closer to Brooke. He smiles as he wipes the flour off her cheek and holds her shoulders with both hands.

L: "You can't cook sixteen years worth of food all at once. Why don't we ask him what he likes instead?"

Brooke exhales, closes her eyes and nods. They are interrupted when they hear someone unlock the front door and slam it shut. A few seconds later they see Brandon walk down the hallway towards the staircase.

L: "Hey. Where have you been?"

Br: "Out."

L: "That's not good enough."

Brandon starts going up the stairs, but Brooke calls for him.

B: "Wait, Brandon. Can we talk to you for a minute?"

L: "Were you out all night?"

B: "Lucas, please. I don't want to fight. Not this morning. Can that please wait?"

Seeing Brandon's exhausted blood-shut eyes that clearly scream he's been up all night, Lucas wants to remind him about the rules. But, the pleading in Brooke's eyes makes him cool down.

L: "As you wish."

Br: "Can I go now?"

B: "Actually I was hoping we could have breakfast together. I swear, no one's gotten food poisoning from my cooking."

L: "Not yet anyway."

B: "Lucas!"

L: "I'll go check on the eggs."

B: "Brandon? Come on, you must be hungry."

Brandon slowly comes down the stairs and walks towards the kitchen. Brooke smiles and watches him for a moment before she follows him. Brandon stops when he sees the state the kitchen's in.

Br: "What the hell happened here?"

L: "Uhm…Brooke happened."

Joining Lucas by the stove, Brooke tries to explain.

B: "I got a little carried away. But, it's under control. Now, what can I get you? Pancakes, waffles, toast?"

Br: "Coffee."

B: "How about milk instead?"

When Brandon rolls his eyes and starts to walk away, Brooke gives in.

B: "Ok. I'll make you a deal. One cup of coffee for a plate of toast and eggs."

Br: "I'm starting to think you two have this weird obsession with making deals."

B: "Well, are you in or what?"

Br: "Scrambled."

Brooke looks over at Lucas with a silly grin and almost pats herself on the back for guessing right what type of eggs her son likes. Brandon takes off his leather jacket and throws it on the sofa. For the next twenty minutes, they sit around the kitchen counter eating breakfast in silence. Brandon focuses on his scrambled eggs, Brooke on her waffle, and Lucas on his cereal. Lucas takes the sports page, gives Brooke the style section, and passes the rest of the newspaper to Brandon. Brooke can't help but sneak a few peeks at her son in between reading about the fall fashion shows. Without even looking, Lucas reaches for the orange juice and pours it in all three of their glasses. There, in a messy kitchen reminiscent of busy, crowded homes, against the sound of crashing waves and the scent of fresh ocean breeze, Brooke, Lucas, and Brandon steal a slice of time only to themselves. As if they've made peace with everything. One happy family having breakfast together like they've had every morning for years. But, stolen time is like any other…it exists and expires at once. Lost years can never be found. Sometimes, even the best of intentions reminds us that we still live in the yesterday. If Brooke Davis had known that her next move would disturb this fragile moment of peace, she would have stayed motionless and speechless for as long as she could. But, we don't have the benefit of hindsight until it's too late. So, she gets up from her chair and walks over to the console table. Reaching inside the drawer, she takes out a small wrapped box and comes back into the kitchen. Sliding it over to Brandon's side next to his plate, she waits smiling for his reaction.

Br: "What is this?"

B: "I saw it and thought of you. It's a birthday gift."

As soon as Brandon unwraps the box and opens to see what's inside, he starts laughing. Confused, Brooke looks over at Lucas who leans over to see what the gift is. It's a silver and black Tag Heuer watch worth at least a couple thousands dollars. Brandon snaps the box closed and keeps laughing.

Br: "You saw this and thought of me?"

B: "I didn't see a watch on your wrist. They tell me this is a popular brand with men."

Br: "There wasn't one dipped in diamonds?"

B: "You can return it if you don't like it. I'm sure I have the receipt somewhere."

Br: "What is this? Sixteen years of child support? Figures you would buy me something that costs more than everything I own combined. I shouldn't be surprised, really. Throw money at the kid and he'll forget all about everything, right?"

Brooke and Lucas can see that he's already breezed past the mildly amused sarcasm and reached full on fury. Once again.

B: "No, that's not…"

Br: "And, of all the expensive things in the world, you go and buy me a watch! A fucking watch! What the hell am I supposed to do with that? Calculate the years you haven't given a second thought about me? Because, I already know that number."

L: "Brandon, you're overreacting to…"

Br: "Oh I know…I should count the hours I spent in funeral homes, cemeteries, courtrooms, hospitals, foster homes? Guess what? I know that damn number too!"

There's no stopping Brandon. No explanation good enough. No apology that can make him understand. So, Brooke simply looks down in defeat.

B: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

Br: "I'll tell you what…I'll use it to count the minutes I have until I am free of this torture."

He flips open the box and grabs the watch shoving it in the front pocket of his jeans. He takes his keys off the counter and jacket off the sofa. Watching his son walk out, Lucas puts his hand on a quiet and upset Brooke's shoulder.

B: "Go after him. He hates you a little less than me right now."

L: "I'll call you."

As she watches Lucas quickly grab his keys and follow their son out, Brooke is left wishing she knew how to rewind time. Back before she got up from that chair to reach for the gift, back before she even bought it. Back when she gave him up, back to the moment he was born. Rewind the years and make a different choice. But, that's the thing about time. The hours and minutes are rarely fair or forgiving when they judge our offenses.

Outside, Lucas finally catches up to Brandon right as he's about to go out the gate.

L: "Brandon! Stop."

Br: "Why? What do you want?"

L: "Where are you going?"

Br: "No idea."

L: "Come with me."

Lucas walks out the gate, but when he notices that Brandon's not following, he turns around.

L: "Please? You are free to leave any time you want. Don't tell me you're not the least bit curious."

After a short drive in Lucas's jeep, they reach their destination. Parked on the side of the street, Lucas stares out his car window.

Br: "What is this place?"

L: "I spent a lot of time here when I was your age. I think it's time I go back. I was hoping you'd help me."

Lucas gets out of the car and leans against it looking up at something. When Brandon joins him, he sees that Lucas is looking up at a sign, _Keith Scott Body Shop_.

Br: "Keith Scott…that's Lily's father, right?"

L: "Lily told you about him?"

Br: "Yeah. She told me about how he raised you and how he died."

L: "This was his body shop. I was driving through town the other day and I saw the sign. Apparently your grandmother bought this place years ago. I had no idea she did that. She says she hasn't touched anything inside. I'm thinking about opening it up again. What do you say? Shall we take a look?"

When they are inside, they see that the place looks like it hasn't been entered in forever. Sometimes time simply runs out before ever being right. And, all we're left with are cobwebs hanging from all corners and inches of dust on the floor. As Lucas goes over to Keith's old office, Brandon walks to the back where he sees a car under a fitted cover. When he pulls the cover off, he finds a red 1967 Mustang underneath. Brandon's hands trace the body of the car from the back to the front as he leans in slightly to look inside the windows.

L: "Hands off my car."

Br: "This is yours?"

Smiling, Lucas walks closer, opens the car door, and gets inside. Brandon follows and takes his place in the passenger seat.

L: "It used to be mine. Feels like another lifetime."

Br: "What are you waiting for? Let's see if it rides as well as it looks."

Finding the keys in the ignition, Lucas tries to start off the engine to no avail.

Br: "Sounds awful, man."

L: "We'll see what you sound like after sitting in a garage for sixteen years."

Lucas gets out of the car and pops open the hood. When Brandon joins him, he sees that Lucas has his hands deep in oil checking several parts for problems.

Br: "What's wrong with it?"

L: "Not sure yet. Might be the battery. Not to mention the engine looks flooded with fuel. Oil's too low and air filter's probably clogged. And, that's only for starters."

Pushing the hood down closed, Lucas grabs a towel off the rack and wipes the grease stains off his hands. He leans back on the hood and looks over to Brandon.

L: "You're sixteen now. You'll be getting your driver's license soon. Any thoughts about what kind of car you want?"

Br: "Why? Is Brooke thinking about exchanging the watch for a Porsche?"

L: "Look, Brandon. I get the attitude. You have every right to be mad at us. But, you have to know that Brooke meant nothing bad by that watch. She wanted you to have something nice that she thought you might need. That's all. There isn't a hidden agenda or a secret meaning to everything we do. Just the opposite. Our intentions are as clear as they can be. We want to make you happy. Period. It's not about money. It's about love. So, give Brooke a break, will you?"

Brandon reaches inside his jean pocket and takes out the watch. He holds it out for Lucas to take.

L: "It's yours to do with as you wish. You don't have to wear it. But, to give it back would crush Brooke's heart. And, I really don't think you want that."

Brandon looks down at the watch in his palm and closes his fingers around it. He puts it back in his pocket. Leaning back on the hood of the car next to Lucas, he crosses his arms over his chest.

L: "About that Porsche…what do you think about a Mustang instead?"

Confused, Brandon looks at Lucas quizzically. He takes a step forward and motions with his hand towards the car.

Br: "This old thing?"

L: "We'll fix it. Together. If we spend a couple hours a few times a week, it'll be as good as new before school starts. What do you say?"

Br: "I don't know anything about fixing cars."

L: "It's ok. I didn't either once. I learned from the best though."

Br: "A couple hours, a few times a week, and this car is mine?"

L: "Yeah."

Brandon walks around the car once and gets in the driver seat. He looks over to Lucas who's kneeling down and resting his folded arms on the rolled down window. As he puts his hands on the steering wheel, he smiles.

Br: "I'm in."

And, Lucas smiles back. Because, it feels like a perfect circle of time. Something that the man he considered a father once passed down to him now passes on to his son. He knows that's the way Keith would want it to be.

L: "We have to clean this place before we can start working on the car."

Br: "Hold up. I didn't sign up for mop duty."

L: "You want the car or not?"

Brandon shakes his head, takes off his jacket, and gets out of the car.

Br: "This is so not how I wanted to spend my birthday. Where's the damn bucket?"

Lucas and Brandon spend the next few hours in overalls mopping, dusting, and vacuuming the place. When Lucas calls Brooke to let her know what they're up to, she informs him that she needs both of them at home at 6pm sharp for Brandon's surprise birthday party. She gives clear instructions, more than once, for Lucas to not slip up and ruin the surprise. After she hangs up the phone, she leaves home to meet with Karen at the Café to choose the cake, and then, goes shopping with Lily for decorations. So, when Rachel arrives early to help set up, all she sees is a teenage girl sitting on the pavement outside the gate.

Rachel: "Who are you?"

Skylar: "Uhm…who are _you_?"

R: "Ok, feisty little one. Let's rewind. What are you doing outside of my best friend's home?"

S: "Waiting for _my_ best friend."

R: "Who's your best friend?"

S: "Who's yours?"

R: "God! You don't look like a parrot. I swear, you sound so much like one."

S: "I'm beginning to like you, too."

Rachel sighs, sits down next to Skylar, and puts the two wrapped boxes of gifts next to her on the pavement.

R: "All right, kid. I invented bad behavior, so let's cut the crap, shall we? I'm Rachel, and this is my best friend Brooke's home. Now, who are you and what are you doing here?"

S: "I'm Skylar, and this is _my_ best friend Brandon's home. Now, is the interrogation over?"

R: "You know Brandon?"

S: "Isn't that what I just said?"

R: "Judging by the fact that you're out here, I'm guessing no one's home. If I were you, I'd be just a little nicer to the one person with keys to let you in. Unless you're happy baking out here on the cement."

Rachel gets up, picks up the gift boxes, and unlocks the gate. She turns around and calls for Skylar.

R: "Well, are you coming?"

As Skylar follows her inside through the garden, Rachel continues to question her.

R: "So, do they know you're here?"

S: "Not exactly."

R: "What does that mean?"

S: "Brandon gave me the address. Brooke told me I could visit anytime and it's his birthday today so…"

R: "You thought you'd surprise him. I'm sure he'll be happy to have his friend here."

As Rachel unlocks the front door and walks in, Skylar freezes in the foyer. Rachel notices that she's not following her anymore.

R: "You ok?"

S: "Yeah. This is where Brandon lives? I mean I knew Brooke was loaded, but this…"

R: "It's a nice house, yes. Don't just stand there, come in. Do you want something to drink? Eat?"

Rachel puts the gifts on the dining table and goes over to the fridge in the kitchen.

S: "I'll take a soda. Coke?"

Rachel grabs two coke bottles and hands one to Skylar. They both twist the caps off and take a sip.

R: "So, what's your story?"

S: "Story?"

R: "You know…who are you? Where are you from? How do you know Brandon? How did you get here? Do your parents know where you are? I can keep going."

S: "Geeze, Curious George. Chill with the million questions."

Rachel grabs the coke bottle off the counter from in front of Skylar, holding it hostage.

R: "You did not just call me a monkey."

S: "A really intelligent and beautiful monkey. You know, with an aura of sophistication."

Skylar holds out her hand for Rachel, who smiles while she returns the bottle. As Skylar adjusts in her chair, she drops her backpack. When she leans down to pick it up, her cardigan falls off her left shoulder, revealing a black and blue bruise.

R: "What happened to you?"

S: "What?"

Rachel walks around the counter to get closer to her. When she reaches to push her cardigan off her shoulder again, Skylar jumps back.

S: "What the hell are you doing?"

R: "What happened to your shoulder?"

S: "I..uhm..oh, that…I fell."

R: "Onto someone's hand?"

S: "What? No. Of course not. I fell on the street. I'm the worst klutz. I was just walking and tripped."

R: "Oh my God. That's the most transparent lie I've ever heard. That's a clear handprint on your shoulder. Who did that to you?"

Neither get a chance to say anything more when they hear someone unlock the front door. Brooke enters with several shopping bags, followed by Lily with a few more and Karen carrying the cake. Rachel remains staring at Skylar, who runs up to help Brooke with her bags.

Brooke: "Skylar! This is a nice surprise."

S: "Hi Brooke. I hope you don't mind me dropping in like this. I wanted to be here for Brandon's birthday."

Skylar grabs a few bags off Brooke's hands and joins the group walking back into the living room.

B: "No, of course, I don't mind. I'm glad you're here. Everyone, this is Skylar, Brandon's friend. This is Karen, his grandmother and her daughter, Lily. And, I see you've already met Rachel. Lily, I don't think you've met my best friend before. She went to high school with me and your brother."

Lily and Karen smile and shake hands with Skylar and Rachel.

R: "I found this one waiting for you outside. You know how much I like stray cats."

S: "First I'm a parrot, now a cat."

R: "Better than a monkey."

For the next couple of hours, Lily directs the group in hanging way too many streamers all around the living room, blowing up almost infinite amount of silver and gold balloons, wrapping numerous birthday gifts, and hanging rice paper lanterns with candles off the terrace railing. Skylar finds excuses to avoid Rachel the whole time. But, it's impossible to run away from questioning stares. While alone for a few minutes, Brooke and Karen talk about the impending wedding. Brooke tries to understate the meaning and play down the importance of the occasion. But, it's impossible to lie to Karen Roe. As Rachel and Lily help Karen place the candles on the birthday cake, Brooke takes Skylar up to the guest room. When they come down, Brooke assigns DJ duty to Lily and Skylar.

L: "I have a better idea. Could I invite a friend to the party?"

When Brooke agrees to the request, Lily calls JJ and tells her to bring her iPod and speakers over to the beach house as soon as she can. After all, she knows no one with a better music collection. As the adults open a bottle of wine, they see Lucas walk in with Nathan right behind him. Brooke jumps off her seat and holds up her hands to stop him.

B: "Lucas! You were supposed to call. Shut the door! We're not ready for the surprise."

L: "Relax. Brandon's not with me."

B: "Where is he?"

L: "He left the shop a couple of hours ago. He knows to be back here by six. Don't worry, he'll be here."

As the boys join the girls in the kitchen, Lucas greets his mom and gives Lily a hug. Then, he notices Skylar and Rachel.

L: "Hi. Skylar, right? It's nice to officially meet you."

After they shake hands, Lucas coldly turns to Rachel.

L: "Rachel."

R: "Lucas."

Brooke tilts her head to the side, purses her lips, and brings a hand over her heart.

B: "Look at that. You two being all chummy. It warms my heart."

R: "We're best pals, right Lucas? I mean at least as long as the minors are in the room."

B: "Best of friends, really."

Rachel gets up from her chair and walks around the counter to get closer to Nathan. She hugs him tightly and leans back with her arms still around his shoulders.

R: "Now, this Scott brother, I'm really glad to see. Hi, Nate."

N: "Rachel."

Lucas clears his throat as he issues his warning.

L: "He's still married."

Dropping her arms to her sides, Rachel takes a step back but keeps her eyes on Nathan.

R: "That's still too bad."

Giggling, Lily and Skylar watch the scene unfold like they're watching a tennis match. As Brooke wonders how to break the tension bordering inappropriate, they're all saved by the doorbell.

L: "Brandon's got his keys, right? It can't be him."

Lucas sees that Brooke's face immediately goes pale. Her hand starts to tremble so much that she has difficulty putting her glass down without spilling the wine.

L: "Brooke, are you ok? Who is it?"

Brooke exhales, closes her eyes, and shakes her head. She walks over to the door and buzzes her guests in through the gate. She returns to the hallway and stands before the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. As Rachel joins her, she's adjusting her skirt and trying to smooth out the wrinkles on the side of her blouse. When she sees Rachel's reflection behind her in the mirror, she stops and looks at her friend who knows there's only one person in the whole wide world who would make Brooke tremble like a teenager again.

B: "How do I look?"

R: "Beautiful. And, strong."

When Brooke hears the knock, she looks up at the door. Leaving Rachel behind, she walks over to open it.

B: "Mother."

Victoria: "Brooke."

Brooke sees the silhouette of a man walking closer, so she takes a step to her right to see him better.

B: "Dad?"

Richard (Ri): "Hi honey."

B: "What are you doing here? Mom said you were in Europe."

V: "Brooke, could we possibly talk about this inside? Unless you're disinviting us."

B: "No. I mean, yes. Come in. Of course. I was just surprised."

Two days ago, Brooke finally gathered enough courage to tell her parents that they have a grandson and that she is moving to Tree Hill to gain custody of him. Denial, anger, and seemingly-endless yelling ensued, which made Brooke glad she decided to deliver the news over the phone as opposed to in person. When she invited them to Brandon's birthday, she really wasn't sure if they would make it. Knowing Brooke's fragile state, Rachel comes forward to greet the grandparents and grabs the gift boxes from Victoria. Leading her parents into the kitchen, Brooke introduces them to everyone. Even though Victoria has met Karen more than once, in her usual manner, she pretends this is the first time. When Brooke refers to the teenage girl in heavy eye make-up, mini-skirt, leather boots, and a skull necklace as her grandson's best friend, all Victoria can say is that it figures. And, the way she utters Lucas's name is even harsher than Rachel, if that's possible. But, the worst is saved for Brooke. As usual.

V: "Brooke, could we talk to you outside for a minute?"

B: "Uhm, sure. Let's go to the terrace. Lucas, you can keep an eye on the gate camera, right? I don't want to miss Brandon's arrival."

L: "Go. I'll call for you when he gets here."

As Lucas watches Brooke unwillingly and nervously walk out with her parents, he turns to Rachel and motions with his head towards the terrace.

L: "Does she need a buffer? A referee? Should I be out there?"

R: "No. She's a pro, Lucas. She's done this all her life. Without you. She doesn't need a fake hero swooping in making things worse."

L: "I get that you hate me. But, I care about her. The last thing I want is to make things worse."

For Rachel, sometimes even eternity doesn't feel long enough for Lucas to suffer for how everything turned out. With a smirk on her face, she turns to face him.

R: "Yet, that's exactly what you do. Every single time. Forgive me if I don't believe you."

Leaving Lucas behind staring out at the terrace, Rachel walks back and takes a seat next to Nathan.

R: "So handsome, what have you been up to the last sixteen years?"

Lucas's stare is broken when he hears the doorbell ring. He opens the door to Haley carrying a large bowl of cookies, and Jamie and Cris with boxes of gifts.

Haley: "Hey, Luke."

L: "Hi Hales. Are those chocolate chip?"

H: "With a touch of cinnamon. You think I'd forget your favorite?"

L: "Nice. You're the best. Come on in."

Jamie: "You know your gate is wide open, right?"

L: "Hey Jamie, Cris. And no, I did not know that."

J: "If you can take these boxes, I'll go lock it."

L: "Thanks."

Taking the gifts from Jamie, Lucas closes the door and walks in with Haley. Cris practically runs up to Lily who throws her arms around him. After she gives him a welcome kiss, she introduces him to Skylar. When Lucas and Haley join the rest of the group in the kitchen, he tries to take the bowl of cookies from her. But, it feels like he may have to wait to pry it from her cold dead hands as she hangs onto to the glass bowl for dear life. It's not about the cookies, really. It's more about seeing Rachel flirt with a smiling Nathan that makes her afraid what her hands may do if they are free. She stands far back enough to remain unseen by them. As she stares at Rachel's finger running down his shirt collar, she can't help but scream that it's _her _husband. On the inside, of course. She reminds herself that they are separated, that he has every right to flirt with whomever he wants. What she feels is pure jealousy, and she knows that there's no defending it. Unlike Haley, Brooke still tries to defend her actions to her parents. With both hands on her hips, she's looking Victoria straight in the eye while her father watches the confrontation in the background.

B: "Mother, you're being unreasonable."

V: "No, you are. This little whim you are on, moving back here, this house of cards…it's all going to come crashing down on you."

Ri: "Victoria, don't you think you're being a little too harsh here?"

V: "Not really. If anything, I'm being too kind. I'm not going to sit back and let her throw away everything she's worked so hard for. Not after all these years."

Annoyed, Brooke sighs and turns away from her towards the ocean.

B: "I'm trying so hard to remember why I invited you."

V: "Because no one else will tell you the truth. Listen to me. You can't just pour hot water and get instant family, Brooke. What happens to your life, your company, when you're on a sabbatical over here?"

And, this idea of a _sabbatical_ pisses Brooke off. She can't believe that her own mother can't understand her need to be a mother herself. But, then she remembers this is Victoria before her. There's nothing normal or typical about her mothering. She turns to face her with a look as determined as looks come.

B: "The truth? Here's my truth. This is not a sabbatical, mom. This is my life now. My home. My family. And, it's not instant. Believe me. I've been waiting for this for sixteen years. And, I'm not going to let you ruin it for me."

V: "Your family? Oh my God. How did I not see this before? This is all about that Scott boy, isn't it?"

B: "Yes. But, not the one you're thinking. It's about my son. Your grandson. Remember him? You're supposed to be here to meet him. To celebrate his birthday. If you can't do that in peace, you shouldn't be here. If you can't just shut up, put a smile on, and sing happy birthday, I need you to go. Now."

Seeing how serious Brooke is, Richard takes a step forward and grabs Victoria's arm.

Ri: "She can do that. Right, Victoria?"

They don't have time to wait for Victoria's answer when Brooke hears the doorbell. Knowing that all her guests have arrived already, Brooke thinks it must be Brandon.

B: "That's your grandson at the door. This conversation is over. You have a decision to make."

She walks around her parents and starts to run past her guests and towards the door. Without stopping, she calls for Lucas.

B: "Lucas! It must be him. Come open the door with me!"

When she reaches the front door, she waits for a second to catch her breath. When Lucas joins her, he puts on her head a gold glittery party hat that matches his. Smiling wide, they open the door together.

B & L: "Surprise!"

The excitement dies down a little, when they see Jamie and JJ at the door. Amused, Jamie can't help but mock them.

Jamie: "Wrong kid. Nice hat, though. I found JJ at the gate."

JJ: "That would be me. Lily called me over."

Seeing the speakers she's carrying, Brooke figures that she must be the music expert Lily invited.

B: "I'm Brooke, and this is Lucas. Come on in."

Brooke and Lucas watch the kids as they walk past them and into the house. As she closes the door, Brooke looks at her watch. Leaning her back against the door, she looks at Lucas. Sadness and disappointment takes over her face.

B: "It's 7pm. He's an hour late."

L: "He'll be here. Hold on."

Reaching into his front pocket, Lucas takes out his cell phone. Dialling Brandon's number, he listens as the line goes directly to voicemail. As he puts the phone back in his pocket, the expression on his face tells Brooke all she needs to know.

B: "He's not coming."

L: "We don't know that."

Coming out of the bathroom, Skylar eavesdrops on their conversation. She walks past them and approaches Lily who's helping JJ set up the speakers.

S: "Brandon's missing. I might know where he is, but I need someone to drive me."

JJ: "My car's outside. Let's go."

Li: "Skylar, meet JJ. I'll get the guys to come with us."

As Skylar and JJ head out, Lily tells Jamie and Cris about the mission and the boys follow her out. Skylar stops before Brooke and Lucas at the door.

S: "Uhm…JJ here forgot her gift for Brandon. We should be back in a half hour."

Li: "We're all going, but we'll be back."

L: "Lily, he'll be here soon. You can't all go."

Li: "I promise we'll be back before he gets here."

Brooke and Lucas have no choice but watch the teens rush out. When they are ready to close the door, they see that they have two more unexpected guests.

Jake: "Hey Brooke. Lucas."

Peyton: "Surprise!"

As old friends stand across from each other in a frozen stare, time becomes too _slow _and_ swift _all at once, in a flash of lightning. Like they get stuck in between the wheel spikes in that miniature clock. And, against nature, the hands of the clock start turning right to left throwing them both back sixteen years. The good and the bad returns. So does the idea of a future they once dreamed of together. The laughs and the cries. The fights and the hugs. The lessons learned and the consequences faced. And, they both wonder if it's possible to trick time to be fair and forgiving when it judges all their good deeds and transgressions between then and now.

"_Sometimes I feel that life is passing me by, not slowly either, but with ropes of steam and spark-spattered wheels and a hoarse roar of power or terror. It's passing, yet I'm the one who's doing all the moving."  
~Martin Amis, 20__th__ century British novelist_

**Author's Note:** In this chapter, Brandon responds to JJ's Brando nickname with _Gidget_, which is the name of the teenage surfer lead in Frederick Kohner's 1957 novel, _Gidget, the Little Girl with Big Ideas_. Also, if I remember correctly, Lucas had a number of cars he drove in high school. If I hallucinated the above-mentioned Mustang as one, please accept my apologies for not sticking to the facts, give in, and join me in my imagination.


	15. Time is Eternity: Part Two

**Author's Note: ** I know most of you have strong, positive or negative, views on the Peyton character. Let me take this moment to say that I will try my best to keep this as realistic as possible without making anyone a villain. After all, I rarely write for characters in which I see no potential for redemption. And, there's plenty of blame to go around when it comes to Brandon. Keep in mind that the adults are in their mid-thirties in this story; I have no intention of throwing them back in the sandbox for a fight. I appreciate BP as friends, albeit with a lot of issues. Not the least of which is the chain of events that led up to Brooke giving up her son. I know it's going to be impossible to make all of you happy, but I'd like to ask that you give me the benefit of the doubt while we revisit some elements of the infamous triangle and the trio's friendship. I'm not going to change the story's building blocks; i.e. Peyton will not replace Rachel as Brooke's best friend. And, I will do my best to respect LP history; i.e. Brooke is not going to magically become the Comet. But, LP fans should also note that this is obviously a BL story and is AU after Season 3. Now, why do I feel like I just stepped into a minefield? One more thing, many of you are asking for bonding scenes for Brandon/Brooke. There's a reason why I'm writing him get closer to Lucas first. And, a good reason why he hasn't asked about the past. Those reasons are not independent of one another. If I may ask you to wait for a bit longer, I promise I'll do my best to reward your patience.

_"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us..."  
~Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities, 1859_

Peyton: "Surprise!"

It takes a couple of seconds for Brooke to register what she hears and whom she sees before her. Irritated that after almost seventeen years of radio silence, all Peyton can say is _surprise_, she has no choice but to let shock and disbelief claim her heart and mind. To call the sight of this ghost of best-friends-past a surprise would be the understatement of the century. The ghost stands before her smiling wide and carrying a bowl of what looks like some green gooey stuff. She arrives, out of the blue, today of all days. No, this is not a surprise. If anything, this moment marks the _epoch of incredulity. _All Brooke can do is drop her jaw and stare. Noticing that she is frozen in shock, Lucas takes over.

Lucas: "Surprise? I'll say. Hi Jake. Peyton."

P: "Lucas. Hi Brooke."

Peyton's smile fades a bit and turns into more of a nervously pasted-on one. Words still escape Brooke.

L: "Guys, I'd like to invite you in, but it's not the best time."

Jake (Ja): "Uhm…we know about the party. That's why we're here actually."

P: "When Jenny said she was coming over for his birthday, we thought…"

Brooke: "You thought what? That you would crash the party?"

A frown replaces Peyton's smile and she lowers the bowl she's been carrying. She feels Jake's hand on her shoulder while she looks down and closes her eyes. She knows better than to expect a miracle just by showing up, but even trying begins to seem like a foolish idea.

P: "I just wanted…I'm sorry, we'll go."

B: "No, stay. There's no kid, no party. Half the guests just walked out. So, you see, it's fitting that you're here."

L: "Brooke, I don't think that's a good…"

Brooke hastily cuts him off and holds up a hand to stop him.

B: "No, it's fine Lucas. Perfect, actually. Come on in guys."

With a wide and obviously-fake grin, she opens the door all the way and steps aside to let Jake and Peyton walk in. When she sees the couple's hesitation, she doubles up the doze of the hostess disguise.

B: "The party hats are on the counter. Let me take that from you. What is it?"

Before they can figure out how to respond, Brooke reaches forward to take the bowl from Peyton. This act, the immediate transformation, doesn't fool anyone; but, Jake plays along anyway.

Ja: "Peyton makes a mean guacamole."

B: "Homemade? Wow. I was just wondering what to do with all the chips. Peyton to the rescue!"

Afraid that Brooke is about to throw the bowl against the wall, Lucas takes it from her hands. He motions for Jake to follow him inside, leaving the girls alone in the foyer. Still sporting the forced grin and with both hands on her hips, Brooke looks straight at Peyton.

P: "Stop it, Brooke."

B: "Stop what?"

P: "Stop the transparent sarcasm. Stop this fake _come-on-in _thing. And, stop looking at me like that."

B: "Like what?"

P: "Like those hands on your hips would rather be around my throat."

Brooke blinks and a version of herself flashes before her closed eyes lunging forward slamming Peyton against the wall behind. With hands tight around that fragile throat and looking straight at her eyes drained of life, she keeps asking…_Why? Why, Peyton? Why? _But, it only lasts a split second. This is not the _season of darkness_. No, that time was over years ago. So, she opens her eyes and shakes the thought out of her head.

B: "I have no idea what you're talking about."

P: "Can we talk?"

B: "Isn't that what we've been doing?"

P: "I don't mean this pretense of a conversation. I mean, really talk."

Brooke finally drops the forced smile and looks away. She's barely audible when she responds.

B: "You don't want that."

Peyton takes a step forward and pleads for an opening.

P: "Yes, I do. I want that. Even if it means that you do end up choking me."

B: "Not here."

P: "Anywhere you want."

B: "Follow me."

The only place Brooke can think of that's the furthest from prying eyes and ears is the rooftop, so she leads the way and Peyton follows. Standing around the kitchen counter waiting for Nathan to open their beer bottles, Jake and Lucas notice the women going upstairs.

Ja: "Brooke doesn't have a gun or a Japanese sword collection up there, does she?"

L: "Those two do more damage with words than any weapon known to man. We'll go check on them if they're not down in twenty minutes."

Nathan gets distracted by Rachel, but when she has to take a phone call, he manages to come back with the requested beer bottles. Each with a beer at hand, Lucas, Jake and Nathan make their way out onto the terrace.

Ja: "Nate, you seem to have an admirer."

N: "The only admirer I'm interested in doesn't quite admire me these days."

Ja: "You're not making much progress with Haley?"

N: "Not all of us have the perfect marriage."

Ja: "No such thing."

L: "Well, she was clearly jealous when she saw you with Rachel. That's something."

N: "She was jealous? Did she say something?"

L: "Not really."

N: "Was it a look? She makes this funny face when she's jealous. Did she make the face?"

Amused by Nathan's passionate excitement, Jake and Lucas chuckle.

L: "Nate, chill man."

N: "You sure she was jealous?"

Lucas sighs, smiles, and looking down, shakes her head.

L: "So, Jake, what's going on with you?"

Ja: "The new album's coming out in two months so I've been crazy busy in the studio lately."

Jake Jagielski is a professional singer, songwriter, as well as the Raven's basketball coach. He's by no means a famous rockstar, but he has his moments getting recognized on the street and his performances always sell out. His fifth album follows his usual acoustic, guitar-based, rock sound and is produced by Peyton and Haley at Red Bedroom Records. It's his first since his daughter was diagnosed with leukemia five years ago. Much of the lyrics are inspired by the struggle their family went through in their fight against cancer.

N: "You're still going on tour, right?"

Ja: "Peyton's planning it for November. We're trying to finalize the dates. She wants to be in Florida for Thanksgiving to be with Larry but Jenny and Annabelle really want to be here for the holidays. My vote doesn't count. As usual. The Jagielski women have veto power."

This October, it'll be a full decade since Peyton and Jake got married. Theirs wasn't a big, planned wedding. It was more of a spur of the moment thing; the realization that neither wanted to waste any more time to officially tie their fates to one another. When they said their _I do's_, only Larry, Jake's parents, and Jenny were in attendance. So, they are planning on renewing their vows in front of a larger group of friends and family to mark the tenth anniversary. When Nikki disappeared eight years ago, Peyton adopted Jenny. It was around the same time they left Savannah behind to return to Tree Hill and the newest addition to their family, Annabelle, was born. When Jenny was diagnosed with cancer only a few short years later, they were reminded how right they had been in not wanting waste any more time to be a family together. Besides his music and coaching the Ravens, Jake's life is dedicated to keeping the Jagielski women healthy and happy. It's not a chore, really. It's what he loves to do. With the new album coming out and the impending tour, he finds that he needs to re-prioritize. And, that's where Nathan comes in.

Ja: "Nate, have you thought about the coaching position?"

L: "What position is this?"

N: "Jake asked me to take over as Raven's new coach."

Ja: "When the album comes out, I won't be able to spend as much time with the team as I'd like to. Besides, it's been almost three years. It's time for a new coach."

N: "You know I'd love to do it, but I don't think Jamie would take it too well."

Nathan's afraid that Jamie would rather quit and join the cheer squad than be coached by his father. As far as he knows, the game keeps Jamie sane; the court is his getaway. That's how he used to escape his own father. That's the irony with time. It's too _swift _for those fearful of repeating the mistakes of their past. What goes around, always comes back around. The last thing he wants is to take away one more thing from his son, because Nathan Scott knows full well the dread he felt when Dan tried to do the same to him. And, he still remembers the promise he's already broken to never be like his father.

L: "Maybe this is exactly what you two need to start talking again. I mean, honestly, can it get any worse?"

Ja: "Just let me know by the end of the week. They need to start interviewing if you're not going to take the job."

Nathan nods his head and looks away still lost in thoughts over his son. Taking another sip of his beer, Jake turns his attention to Lucas.

Ja: "So Luke, I haven't seen you in forever. What's new with you?"

L: "Not much…you know, the usual. A new house, Brooke's back, found out I have a teenage son. Oh and, I'm getting married."

Unable to stop himself from spitting out his last sip of beer, Nathan can't hide his shock.

N: "What? You're getting married?"

Ja: "Congratulations?"

Nathan leans in a few inches closer, raises his eyebrows and looks at his brother threateningly.

N: "You and Brooke? Please tell me it's Brooke."

L: "Yes, it's Brooke. The wedding's next weekend."

Ja: "Why so quick?"

L: "If it was up to me, we'd do it today. There's no reason to wait."

Despite the complicated technicalities of the court forcing their hands, adoption requirements, and pre-nuptial agreements, what Lucas says isn't really a lie. In fact, it's the honest truth. Next to rewinding the clock about seventeen years, this is his best course of action. It's what he would have done if he could have located Brooke all those years ago. Time has already been too _slow _as he waited for this moment to come, so he doesn't intend to waste any more of it.

L: "We're leaving Thursday for Myrtle Beach."

Ja: "Why Myrtle?"

L: "Long story."

N: "That's perfect. You've got to let me come Luke."

It's as if Lucas can see the wheels turning in his brother's eyes. But, whatever plan Nathan has in mind has to be squashed.

L: "Uhm…it's a small wedding, just the three of us. Well, and Rachel because Brooke needs a witness."

N: "No. Change of plans. You can't get married without your brother and your best friend."

L: "Wait a minute, first you want to come and now you want me to invite Haley too?"

N: "Don't you see? It's the perfect excuse to spend time with Haley. Out of town, no bad Tree Hill memories. She can't avoid or hide from me. Luke, you have to make this happen for me."

L: "Nate, I would. I really would, but I don't think Brooke wants to make a big deal out of this."

N: "You need a witness. And, don't say Brandon, because I don't know about South Carolina, but most states require witnesses to be at least eighteen. You need me. Come on, big brother. I'll owe you."

Lucas can't remember if he's ever seen his brother beg for something with such a desperate pleading look in his eyes. He knows Brooke won't be happy when she hears the wedding party might get bigger, but if there's even a small chance that this trip may bring Nathan and Haley closer, he'd never forgive himself for saying no.

L: "All right. I can't promise anything. I have to talk to Brooke first."

Ja: "Seems the women wear the pants in your family too."

L: "You have no idea."

Lucas gets anxious and worried when he sees his brother stare out at the ocean with a content smile that screams he has a plan. Plans have never paid off for Lucas Scott. He knows that forcing fate doesn't work. Not in the long run anyway. No one can manipulate time to be right. Trying so backfires every time. But, he also knows that one can sit back forever waiting for fate to make things happen. Sometimes, we have to stand up and go after what we want. After all, isn't that what he's doing with Brooke and Brandon? So who's he to judge Nathan for wanting to take a leap of faith himself? He watches his brother turn around and look inside at Haley who's talking to Karen in the kitchen. There's such affection and devotion in that one look that makes Lucas wish that Nathan has better timing than he does when it comes to plans.

About twenty blocks north, JJ has a similar thought about plans. She brings her car to a stop, and leans in closer to the dashboard to look out the windshield. It's not only JJ who's wondering why she went along with Skylar's plan, but also everyone else in the car. Everyone, but Skylar, of course.

JJ: "Are you sure about this? Why would he be in a cemetery?"

Confident in her guess, Skylar gets out of the car. JJ, Lily, Jamie, and Cris follow her out. Spotting Brandon, Skylar points him out to the doubtful teens.

Skylar: "There he is. Stay here."

She starts walking towards a barely visible Brandon sitting under a willow tree surrounded by tombstones. It's like he's hiding behind the branches heavy with leaves hanging low around him. He's leaning his back against the tree trunk and scribbling in a notebook resting on his bended knees. Brandon Walker writes when he wants to escape. And, for him, there's no better place to escape to than the cemetery. It's the only place where time is frozen. Where yesterday doesn't matter and tomorrow doesn't exist. Every second is the same as the one before and after. The only things that come and go are the flowers the living leave behind with the dead. Everything else remains exactly as is for all eternity. This is exactly where and how Skylar expected to find him. He's so focused on his writing that he doesn't even notice her approach. So, she stands before him, with a smile and a tilted head.

S: "You are so predictable."

The moment he raises his head to see the owner of the familiar voice, the widest smile comes across his face. He puts the pen behind his ear, throws the notebook on the grass and swiftly gets up. He picks her up by the waist and spins her around once. Her thick red hair swirls in the air and lands on the back of his leather jacket.

Br: "Red! You came!"

Her feet touch the ground again, but he has no intention of releasing her from his tight grip yet.

S: "Need. Air. Now."

Stepping back, Brandon relaxes his arms but keeps them around her waist. The elated smile remains on both their faces as if it's a permanent fixture.

Br: "How did you find me?"

S: "I do know a few things about you, birthday boy. For once, let me find you riding a ferris wheel or knitting me a scarf. You know, mix it up a little."

Br: "I've missed you."

S: "I've missed you too. And, I'm not the only one."

When Brandon looks at her confused, she turns around to where the car is parked. Following her gaze, Brandon sees Jamie, JJ, Lily, and Cris all staring back at the two of them. Watching the reunion from a dozen or so yards away, the kids have different reactions to what unfolds before them.

Cris: "I don't get it. Who spends their birthday alone in a cemetery? That's just spooky."

Lily: "I don't think so. I come here to talk to dad all the time."

JJ: "He mentioned his mom and dad this morning. I bet that's what this is about."

Jamie immediately turns to JJ and his eyes show hints of being bothered by her revelation.

Jamie: "You talked to him this morning?"

JJ keeps her eyes on Brandon and Skylar, so it's easy for her to shake off the annoyed tone in Jamie's voice.

JJ: "Yeah. So what? I ran into him at the beach. He had a rough night and maybe being here makes him feel closer to his parents."

C: "So, those two…are they an item? They look pretty comfortable in each other's arms."

It's JJ's turn to be peeved by the implication. She shifts her weight from her right leg to the left, and squints her eyes trying to see the duo's facial expressions.

JJ: "He never mentioned a girlfriend. I'm not getting that vibe. Are you? I mean I guess it could be. Lily, you know him best. Did he say something to you?"

Li: "No. But, then I didn't ask him about girls. Now that I know you're interested, I sure will."

JJ: "What? I'm not interested."

Li: "Yeah, ok."

Giggling, Lily nudges JJ's hip with hers. Jamie just rolls his eyes.

J: "Whatever."

Li: "I'm going over there."

C: "Cariño, I don't think that's such a good idea."

Li: "Who else knows this place better than me? Give me five minutes and I'll bring him back."

After she gives Cris a quick peck on the lips, Lily starts walking over to the willow tree under which Brandon and Skylar are now sitting. As she gets closer, she can hear them talking.

S: "Can you maybe give them the benefit of the doubt? They came here for you."

Br: "What did you do? Snap your fingers? Twitch your nose?"

S: "Nothing. I swear. They all wanted to find you. Come on. It's way past time to return to the living. Don't you think life is depressing enough without staring at tombstones all day?"

Br: "I don't find it depressing here. On the contrary, I think it's peaceful."

Li: "I do too. Hey there."

Br: "Hi Lily."

Li: "I'm sorry for interrupting. Skylar, if you don't mind, I'd like to take Brandon somewhere."

S: "Go for it."

Lily extends her hand and when Brandon takes it, she pulls him up.

Br: "Where are we going?"

Li: "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

As Jamie watches Lily lead Brandon further into the cemetery, he decides to get some answers from Skylar. So, he leaves JJ and Cris alone by the car, and with his hands in his jean pockets, walks over to this mysterious newcomer.

S: "So it's you."

J: "Me?"

S: "The one who drew the short stick?"

When Jamie gives her a puzzled look, she smiles.

S: "The cemetery creeps you guys out, but someone's got to come ask what the hell is going on, right? So, you somehow ended up with scary new girl duty."

She pats her hand a couple of times on a patch of grass next to her where Brandon used to sit.

S: "I don't bite. Unless you ask me to."

She invites him to join her with such a suggestive look that Jamie can't help but smile as he looks down and shakes his head. But, when he looks up at her again, it's as if the dark eye make-up disappears all of a sudden, and the flickers of amber in her green eyes twinkle. She smirks at him and he finds himself thinking how disarming that slight curve on her upper lip is. Alluring, really. There's an all-out, straightforward, come-hither thing about her. Complete with swaying hips in a mini skirt and exposed cleavage under a low-cut shirt. Yet, somehow, to him, it all seems like a mask. And, that glimmer in her eye and curve on her lip makes him wonder what's underneath. So, he decides to accept the invitation. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he slowly sits down next to her.

J: "I volunteered."

S: "Really? So, you're brave as well as handsome."

J: "Among other things."

S: "And, modest, too. I think we should be on a first name basis, don't you think?"

J: "Jamie. Jamie Scott. I guess I'm Brandon's cousin."

S: "Hi Jamie. I'm Sky. So, you want to know why we're here?"

Jamie nods his head.

S: "For as long as I've known Brandon, this is where he's come when he wanted to run away. I call it avoiding the living. He says the cemetery is where he feels the most alive. Personally, I think he finds the dead comforting since they can't judge or yell at him. On the count of, you know, not being able to talk back. They can't leave him. Whenever he comes back, they're always here. His birthdays are especially tough. Back in Raleigh, he used to spend most of the day sitting by his parents' grave, writing in that notebook of his. I must have asked a million times to read that thing, but he guards it like it's the secret to immortality. And, only he gets to know what it is. Anyway, I guess you could call it a hunch that I thought we'd find him here."

J: "You know him pretty well."

Amused, Skylar turns to face him and grins.

S: "Oh."

J: "What?"

S: "Ask me what you really want to know."

When she sees that Jamie keeps the puzzled look, pretending not to know what she's talking about, her grin turns into a deep laugh. But then, she stops at once, turns to face him, leans in too close for comfort, and whispers in his ear. Jamie can feel her breath crash into his neck and the words burn his skin.

S: "Yes, we are _so_ doing it. The swinging-from-chandeliers, seeing-stars, out-of-body-experience kind of hot, wild, dirty sex."

She leans back and watches as Jamie's eyes get wider, and he takes a moment to close his open mouth and swallow. And, satisfied that her mission's accomplished, she bursts into a fit of loud laughter once again. When her amusement dies down, she sighs and turns to look at him. Her hand goes for his hair, tucking a few unruly strands behind his ear. She smiles when they fall over his eyes again. She wonders if Jamie Scott prefers those out-of-place, the disobedient. Because, that works just fine for Skylar. When he looks back at her, slightly embarrassed, he sees a kind smile putting him at ease.

S: "You're really very sweet, Jamie. Let's go."

She lightly nudges his shoulder with hers, and gets up. She extends her hand for him to take and when their hands meet, she helps pull him up. For a few seconds as they start walking back to the car, she holds onto his hand. And, he doesn't pull back. When she finally lets it go, he keeps it stationary and just close enough so that her hand gently touches his with every sway of her arm. As they quietly approach the car, they hear the end of what seems to be a heated argument. JJ looks furious as Cris gets too close, so she aggressively pushes him away.

C: "What are you going to do?"

JJ: "Nothing. Ok? I made a promise to you so you have nothing to worry about. But, it doesn't mean I have to like it. If you think for one second…"

When she finally notices they have company, JJ immediately stops talking. To Skylar and Jamie, it's pretty clear they walked in on something they weren't supposed to see or hear. So, Jamie chooses the up-front way and asks.

J: "What's going on here?"

JJ: "Nothing. We were just…"

When nerves and panic take hold, JJ's voice shakes and she averts her eyes. Trying to diffuse the situation, Cris takes over. After all, he's always been the better liar.

C: "JJ's being JJ. She's trying to sign me up for this surf contest. But, I keep telling her it's a bad idea."

Not sure if he should believe it, Jamie looks over at Skylar who shares in his suspicion. She raises her eyebrows and holds up her hands. Taking a step back, she's basically telling Jamie without words that she wants to stay out of it.

J: "What did you promise him, JJ?

C: "She promised she wouldn't go behind my back and do something I don't want her to do. Like enter me in this competition. Right, JJ?"

JJ: "Right."

Seeing that Jamie is not fully convinced, JJ changes the topic.

JJ: "How come we're two men down?"

S: "Lily said there was someone she wanted Brandon to meet."

J: "Keith."

S: "Who's that?"

Cris: "Lily's father. I guess that would make him Brandon's great uncle. He was killed before Lily was born. She comes here about once a week to talk to him."

As Jamie fills Skylar in on the Keith Scott story, Brandon joins Lily in her weekly tradition by Keith's gravesite. As he listens to Lily introduce him to her father, he goes from uncomfortable to smiling, to sad, and then to hopeful all in a span of a few minutes. She tells him all about how Brandon looks so much like a young Lucas from the photo albums. How she thinks the whole bad boy attitude is just an act despite how well the leather jacket fits him. He can't help but smile when Lily pretends to hear Keith talk back. First, it's about how much he would have liked to meet him in person, then it's about how he should give Brooke and Lucas a chance. Brandon tells him Lucas agreed to let him have his Mustang if they can fix it. That seems to make Lily very happy.

Li: "I was about eight when mom showed me that car. She had just bought dad's old body shop. She told me my brother had it after dad passed away. She said it would sit in the garage until Luke came back to claim it. I guess it was always waiting for you."

Br: "Lucas wants to open up the body shop again. What do you think about that Keith?"

Li: "Really? Dad's asking what took him so long. Don't you see dad? He's been waiting for Brandon too. What's that? Hmmm…dad says smoking is prohibited in his car. Apparently, there's no way he's going to let you stink up his Mustang. He promises to haunt you forever if he sees one cigarette butt within 10 yards of his car. He's disappointed they haven't outlawed smoking altogether by now. I'll have to agree on that."

Br: "10 yards?"

Li: "Now it's 15 yards. You may not want to object. Hey dad, we have to go. It's Brandon's birthday today. He says happy birthday and to save him a piece of cake but only if it's chocolate. As if I'd let mom bake a different kind! So, there's this party at his house. Shhh, it's supposed to be a surprise. He says to remind you to act surprised when we get home. Anyway, but you know I'll be back soon."

Br: "Me too."

Lily looks over at Brandon and smiles before turning back to look at Keith's tombstone. She kisses the inside top edge of the fingers of her right hand and getting closer to the tombstone, places her hand on it for a moment.

Li: "I love you, dad. And, yes, I'll give mom a kiss when I see her. Bye."

She starts to walk away, but Brandon remains behind for a few seconds.

Br: "You know your daughter's pretty great, right? She's incredible. She really is. I thought you should know that. Bye, Keith."

Brandon runs for a few steps and catches up to Lily. As they keep walking, Brandon tries to think of a way to get out of attending the party being thrown in his honor.

Br: "Were you serious about the party?"

Li: "As serious as some fifty gold balloons I personally blew up and one delicious chocolate cake I slaved over. Before you ask, no, there's no way you're not coming. Oh and, don't forget to act surprised. You know…arms and eyes wide open and saying something like _wow, I really wasn't expecting this!_"

Br: "Lily Scott, has anyone told you how bossy you are?"

Li: "Brandon Walker, has anyone told you how much of a dickhead you are?"

When Lily notices that Brandon is no longer walking alongside her, she stops and turns to face him.

Li: "Case in point. Yes, I said it. You're a dickhead."

Br: "Is this supposed to convince me to go with you? Cause you're failing miserably."

Li: "I shouldn't have to convince you. There's five of us in that car who came here to find you. There's, I don't even know how many, people back at your house waiting to wish you a happy birthday. Your mother…don't look at me like that. No matter how much you may hate it, she's your mother. Your mother, your grandmother, and I spent the entire day preparing for this party. And, you just want to skip it? For what? So you can hang out here? You tell me if that's not the biggest dickhead move you've ever heard of."

Brandon starts walking again and Lily joins him.

Br: "Like I said. Bossy."

Li: "And, don't you forget it, dickhead."

When Lily and Brandon reach the car, they all get in. Skylar volunteers to sit on Jamie's lap to make room for Brandon, which gets an embarrassed smile from Jamie and a peeved look from Brandon, who suggests Lily and Cris share the front seat instead. When Skylar finds herself sitting in between Jamie and Brandon in the backseat, she finds it a nice alternative to her original idea. With her left hand on Jamie's knee and right on Brandon's, she smiles.

S : "Now, unless I'm mistaken, it's customary to make a wish when stuck in between two of a kind. Look at that…two pairs of pretty blue eyes. I think I'll wish for…"

She closes her eyes and makes a wish silently.

J: "What? What did you wish for?"

She takes her hand off Brandon's knee and turns her body to face Jamie. She leans in closer just a few inches and smiles at him.

S: "I'd tell you, but then it won't come true. And trust me, you want this one to come true."

When she turns around, she catches JJ watching them in the rear-view mirror. Amused by her curiosity, she winks at her reflection. And, JJ smiles back before she focuses her eyes on the road again. The rest of the way to the beach house is a relatively quiet ride. Brandon stares out the window mentally preparing himself for the party that awaits him. Jamie looks out the opposite direction wondering what secret JJ and Cris are keeping from the rest of them. A part of Lily is still back at the cemetery talking to her father and the rest of her has one arm around Cris and fingers interlocked with his. JJ is running her conversation with Cris through her mind trying to make sure what Jamie and Skylar heard isn't too incriminating. And, Cris is trying to avoid JJ's side of the car and focusing all his attention on Lily. So, when Skylar sees that they've all retreated to their own cocoons inside the car, she leans back disappearing into silence herself.

Back on the rooftop at the beach house, a different kind of stillness encircles Brooke and Peyton. They are simply counting every millisecond until one of them erupts. Brooke hangs onto the railing with both hands as she stares out over the ocean. Peyton has her arms crossed over her chest while she leans against the railing looking at Brooke. When minutes pass without one word, she begins to wonder if Brooke is debating whether pushing her off the roof is an acceptable alternative to choking her. The silence is like a sharp knife plunged into her gut, and she knows that when Brooke starts talking, she will twist it in deeper. So, she waits for what's inevitable. And, when the inevitable arrives, Brooke avoids eye contact at all costs.

B: "You know what hurts the most? It's not the knife in my back. No, because I'm used to that. There's something worse than all the lies and the betrayal. Forget everything that happened with Lucas. We were kids, then. I can almost excuse it away. But, the one thing I can't excuse…you were supposed to be my best friend. Closer, really. You were my sister. But, not once did I hear from you. Almost two decades, and not one call, email or letter. I'm in the freaking phone book, Peyton."

P: "I didn't think you wanted to hear from me. I didn't know how to start…what to say. I'm a coward, ok? I should have called. No, I should have come to see you."

That particular response makes Brooke roll her eyes and turn to face Peyton. She keeps one hand on the railing, and the other moving around in the air in a frenzy.

B: "You've never been a coward, Peyton. Selfish, yes. But, not a coward. You moved on to your happily ever after with Jake and pushed me out of your mind. Because finding me, thinking about me, would ruin your perfect life, right?"

Peyton knows it's true. After everything fell apart in Tree Hill, she ran to Savannah. To Jake and Jenny. To plan for and dream of a better tomorrow with them. She pretended, for years, the past didn't matter. She made herself believe that what once existed, expired. She kept moving, because staying still, looking back, hurt too much. But, time is sticky as well as fluid. We can't live in only one slice of it forever. Sooner or later, our yesterdays catch up to our tomorrows.

P: "I'm here now. Doesn't that count for something?"

B: "It's too late now. I needed you back then. Lucas must have told you I was pregnant. Whatever stupid fight we were having shouldn't have mattered. I was alone and you didn't come after me!"

P: "I did. You disappeared without a word. No clue. I looked everywhere for you."

B: "That's a lie. You chose Lucas over me. Again! Rachel, a virtual stranger, did what you were supposed to do for me."

P: "Rachel? Oh my god. You were there that day. At the beach house."

B: "I had a front row seat to my best friend and my boyfriend's roadtrip to clear their conscience over chasing the poor little pregnant girl out of town."

P: "That's not how it was, Brooke."

B: "Really? With me out of the picture, you didn't get everything you wanted?"

Brooke can't help but yell, and Peyton just takes it with her head down.

P: "I didn't even know what I wanted then. You don't know how it was."

B: "So, let me get this straight. You were confused? And, it cost me my son? Tell me, Peyton. How was it?"

P: "If it makes you feel better, you can blame me. For all of it. But, that's not fair and you know it."

Finding Peyton's request for fair play simply unbelievable, Brooke gives up. Sixteen years is too _slow_ to wait and too _long_ to grieve. There's nothing fair about years spent without her best friend, the man she loved, and her son, while Peyton gets to ride into the sunset with her prince charming. She turns around to stare over at the ocean again.

B: "Do not talk to me about what's fair."

P: "Yes, I did a terrible thing. And, I'm more sorry for it than you'll ever know. But, you said it yourself; we were kids, Brooke. How were we supposed to know we had the power to change the course of our future with just a few words, one action? We were just as young as Jenny or Brandon is now. Can you imagine putting them in the situation we were in?"

When Peyton realizes that the heat of the moment is getting to her, making her raise her voice and talk fast, she stops and takes a deep breath. With the palm of her right hand on her forehead, she paces back and forth a few steps. When she stops before Brooke, her voice is calmer and her eyes are teary.

P: "The day we came to Rachel's…that's the day Lucas and I broke up. It was never right. Not without you. The whole time, we were chasing after you. Whatever relationship you think Lucas and I had after you left, it was never about us. It was about finding a liferaft. You know? Something, someone to hold onto. To pull us out of the darkness. I thought the person to pull me out was Lucas. I was wrong. I made a mistake that all three of us have paid dearly for. If I could take it back…"

Choking up, Peyton's unable to finish her thought. That is the moment the weight of all that's lost begins to crush her. There was a time she used to believe they had everything before them. Seeing that the everything has fizzled down to almost nothing, the warm August evening feels like a cold _winter of despair_. And, it becomes impossible for her to hold back the tears.

P: "I lost you. I miss you, Brooke Davis. I have missed you since the day you left."

Brooke Davis knows Peyton Sawyer well enough to be able to tell when her words are true and her tears are real. And, the genuine vulnerability affects her no less now than it has always done in the past. But, regrets and remorse don't change a thing. Nothing brings back the missing hours and minutes. The actions remain and so do the consequences.

B: "What do you want me to say, Peyton? You want me to say all is forgiven? That we're friends again? You want a hug? What do you want from me?"

She wants to say _forgive me_, but it's not the right time. She wants to say _trust me_, but she hasn't earned it yet. She wants to say _let me in_, but there's a million roadblocks and locked doors in between them. So, she asks that Brooke hand her the first key, and let her do the rest of the unlocking.

P: "I want you to keep talking to me. Keep yelling at me. I want you to give me a chance to show you that I am still your friend even if you're not mine. A chance to earn back your trust. I want you to not shut me out. Please."

Brooke is unsure how to answer. A part of her wants to cut all ties. It's the part that believes she can block out the pain. Out of sight, out of mind. But, she knows that's the same mistake she accused Peyton of making just a few minutes ago. Brooke Davis is no saint. She has made her share of mistakes, carries her load of regrets. She believes in repentance, showing remorse, and atoning for one's sins. Would it not be hypocritical of her to ask Brandon for forgiveness when she's not willing to give it herself? When she spots a car drive up and park in front of her gate, she doesn't get a chance to formulate a response. As she sees Brandon come out, she realizes that the kids must have gone to find him. Leaving Peyton behind on the rooftop, she starts to walk back inside.

B: "I have to go. He's here."

Watching Brooke walk away in a hurry, Peyton calls after her for one last thought. Brooke stops, but doesn't look back. She doesn't want Peyton to see that it's her turn to struggle with holding back her tears.

P: "One more thing…for Lucas, it has always been about you. It still is."

That's what makes people find hope in time. We all see it differently. Our very own unique view. Our personal perspective. Yes, we all get the same number of hours and minutes each day, but time never teaches the same lessons to us all. History is subjective. What may have been _the worst of times_ for one, may be _the_ _best of times _for another.

"_Time, the cradle of hope... Wisdom walks before it, opportunity with it, and repentance behind it: he that has made it his friend will have little to fear from his enemies, but he that has made it his enemy will have little to hope from his friends."  
~Charles Caleb Colton, 18__th__ century British author_


	16. Time is Eternity: Part Three

"_It's a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up."  
~ J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, 2000_

For two people on a certain path to collide, Brandon Walker and Brooke Davis could not be at more opposite ends. And, not just physically. As he unlocks the gate and lets his companions in the garden, she leaves Peyton behind on the rooftop, and blocking everything else, starts heading for the stairs to greet her son. With every step bringing him closer to the front door, the dread of the inevitable rises higher within Brandon's chest. And, it's matched inch by inch by the joyous anxiety inhabiting Brooke's. As she practically runs down the stairs, she calls for Lucas.

Brooke: "Lucas! He's here!"

Seeing Brooke sprint for the door in high heels, Lucas leaves the kitchen in a hurry to follow suit. Noticing how nervous she is, he wants to make sure she's survived the encounter with the former best friend with as few scratches as possible.

Lucas: "You ok? How did it go up there with…"

Cutting him off, Brooke makes it clear talking about Peyton is the last thing on her mind.

B: "Not now. Ready?"

She frowns at the sight of the gold glittery party hats he reveals from their hiding place behind his back.

B: "This again?"

L: "Come on, Brooke. You used to think accessories are crucial to a good party. I don't think helium condoms are appropriate and I really don't want to know who's on my teenage son's elevator list, so this will have to do."

B: "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

He shakes his head and with a you-can't-possibly-refuse-me look, places one on her head and the other on his. He smiles at a wave of stray hair stuck over her eye and reaching for her forehead, tucks it under the hat. And, she smiles back. It's a small gesture. But, it's the exact kind she needs to feel at ease. A brief moment that exists and expires at once. But, it last for the exact length she needs to find comfort. They are distracted by the sound of the kids approaching the front door. They don't even realize that all the party guests have gathered behind them in the hallway. They look at each other, take a deep breath, and open the door together.

Everyone: "Surprise!"

While the rest of the teens join in the ruckus, it takes a few seconds for Brandon to stop searching for his keys in his pockets and look up. He simply stands there stoically. He doesn't have to look back at Lily to feel the heat from her stare. The flames are figurative, of course. But, her annoyance is literal. She's impatiently waiting for him to follow her explicit orders to act surprised.

Brandon (Br): "What? This _is_ my surprised face."

Lily (Li): "Nephew!"

Lily's not-so-light punch on his shoulder reminds him of her specific instructions from the cemetery. Opening his eyes and mouth wide, he leans back a few inches and throws his arms in the air.

Br: "Wow, I really wasn't expecting this!"

While Lily looks down shaking her head, Jamie, Cris, JJ, and Skylar can't help but burst in a fit of laughter. Brooke and Lucas are too happy at his arrival to be disappointed that their surprise seems to be ruined. Not to mention, they're both amused by this obvious attempt at Lily's urging.

B: "You knew."

As Jamie walks past Brandon and goes inside, he pats his cousin on the back for a job well done.

Jamie: "That was pathetic, man. Really. Just wretched."

JJ: "Lawrence Olivier, ladies and gentlemen! Quick, someone fetch the Oscar from my trunk."

Li: "Sorry, Luke. It slipped, Brooke. I didn't mean to tell him."

B: "It's ok. We're just glad you're all here. Come in."

As all the kids hurry past the adults, Brandon's more hesitant with his steps. Concerned that he's lingering behind, Lily stays with him while Brooke and Lucas close the door. Before either can say anything, Victoria walks forward to join them.

Victoria: "Well, well…this must be the young man we heard nothing about for sixteen years."

Brooke tries to run interference, but it's no use.

B: "Mom, this is so not the time."

V: "You must get this tardiness from your father. It doesn't run in our side of the family."

Br: "Look, lady. I don't know who you are, and honestly, I don't care to know. But, shut up about my father."

Tickled by her grandson's defiance, Victoria turns to Lucas.

V: "So protective of you already! I had forgotten all about the Scott charm. Seems it still works."

Br: "No, not him. My real father."

When faced with Brandon's raised voice and continued anger, Victoria ceases to be amused.

V: "Listen to me, you spoiled brat. He may not be your father. But, I'm your grandmother. God, I hate that word. No one talks to me like that. You will show me due respect."

B: "Mother, please!"

Br: "I'm so out of here."

B: "Brandon, wait!"

But, Brandon has no intention of waiting. As he hurriedly goes up the stairs, he holds up a hand without looking back. Lily guesses that means he doesn't want anyone to follow him. But, she has no intention of honoring that request. Turning to face the dejected Brooke watching him disappear out of sight, Lily makes one request.

Li: "Let me talk to him. Please."

Getting the nod to go ahead from Brooke, she first runs to the gifts table to grab a box and then, goes swiftly up the stairs. Watching the drama she created unfold before her, Victoria remains unaffected.

V: "You need to teach that kid some manners. That attitude wreaks of Scott genes."

While looking straight into her mother's eyes, Brooke tries her best to remain calm and collected.

B: "Please leave."

V: "I will do no such thing."

Opening the door wide, Lucas keeps one hand on the handle and the other motioning out into the garden.

L: "Yes, you will. Brooke said please. If you make me ask again, I won't be as kind."

V: "How dare you? You can't throw me out of my own daughter's home."

Seeing that Victoria stands her ground staring at Lucas, Richard grabs her arm and despite her protests, practically pushes her out the door.

Richard (Ri): "Victoria, that's enough. We're going."

Returning briefly to bid his daughter a proper goodbye, he gives Brooke a kiss on the cheek.

Ri: "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll talk to her."

B: "Don't bother, dad. I'll call you later."

When Lucas finally closes the door behind them and turns around, he sees that Brooke is as drained and disappointed as she is furious. He remembers well the impact Victoria used to have on her. Some things never change. But, somehow, we build a kind of immunity to them over time. Raise our tolerance level. The teenage Brooke whose confidence and self-esteem got chipped away any time such an incident occurred has transformed into an adult who is more than capable of standing up for herself. Yes, some things never change. But then, some do, and we find that we're stronger. That, against all odds, we grow up.

L: "Are you ok?"

B: "I should have never invited them. I don't expect her to be all warm and cuddly, but this? For God's sake! She just met her grandson. She couldn't just stick to _hello, how are you_? She has to antagonize everyone she meets. It's like a damn unwritten rule with her. He came, Lucas. He was here. And, that witch chased him away."

L: "Lily will bring him back. She already did it once today."

Brooke doesn't look as convinced as Lucas.

B: "I'm going up there."

L: "Are you sure?"

B: "Yes. I have to explain what just happened. Lily can't do that."

L: "You want me to come with you?"

As she heads for the stairs, she looks back one last time.

B: "No. But, wish me luck."

L: "Good luck."

While Brooke and Lucas deal with the grandparents downstairs, Lily is standing at the threshold of Brandon's open bedroom door waiting for him to notice her. He angrily throws his jacket on his bed and paces a few steps back and forth in his room. When it's clear he's in a world of his own, Lily decides to make her presence known.

Li: "Is it safe?"

He looks over at the door for a brief moment, but doesn't stop pacing.

Li: "You're not going to go off on me for daring to cross the threshold, are you?"

He finally stops, exhales deeply, and motions with his hand for her to come in. She obliges and closes the door. First, she sits on the edge of his bed and then, he joins her.

Li: "Help me understand something."

Br: "What?"

Li: "Why did you let the grumpy old granny win?"

Br: "I didn't."

Li: "You're up here and she's down there. I see no gold balloons here. And, I'm pretty sure there's no cake. Tell me again who kicked whose ass out of _your_ party?"

Br: "Nobody kicked my ass. I chose to leave."

Li: "No, you chose, stupidly might I add, to throw the whole perfectly fine batch out because of one rotten apple. You could have laughed at her face, walked away, and joined the rest of us. You still can. I mean, did you see the glittery hats? Lucas does not do glitter, Brandon. And, you're wasting it."

Lily manages to get a smile out of him, but he still doesn't move. So, she gets up, points a finger at him, and issues her threat.

Li: "Ok. I'm going to give you ten minutes of solitude. Only ten. After that, I'm bringing the cavalry up here. If you don't come to the party, the party shall come to you."

She starts to walk away, but stops and turns around when she realizes she forgot to give him her gift.

Li: "This is for you. Happy birthday."

Brandon stands up and gets closer to Lily to take the box from her.

Br: "Thanks, but you really didn't have to."

Li: "I wanted to. I'll see you soon. Like, real soon. Ten minutes. I'm not kidding."

Smiling, Brandon watches her leave and sits back down on his bed. He unties the ribbon around the box, and rips the wrapping paper off. When he opens the box, he finds a dark wooden picture frame and a card inside. He first goes for the card, and taking it out of its envelope, reads it.

_Dear Brandon,  
There are two things I own in this world that I would run into a burning building to save. The first is a necklace my mom gave me years ago. Story for another time. The second is a framed picture of my parents. It's on my nightstand, so it's the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I see before I fall asleep. Your father took that picture on the day they got engaged. They're not even smiling, but they look so happy and in love. It makes me believe that despite all the tragedy in this crazy world, moments of pure bliss do come around. You asked me a few days ago about your parents and I told you that I only knew of their story from the pictures mom has. So, this is me sharing with you a few of those moments of pure bliss from their history. I don't expect you to put this frame on your nightstand. You don't have to display or frame any of the enclosed pictures. You don't even have to tell anyone you have them. Not yet anyway. Keep them hidden if you wish. Until you're ready. Would I be selfish if I said that I wish that day arrives soon?  
I feel incredibly lucky to have you in my life.  
Have a rockin' birthday.  
Love,  
Lily_

Brandon puts the note aside and stares at the frame inside the box. He knows that the pictures Lily refers to must be under the frame. Brandon Walker has a million questions about the past. About how he came to be, why he was abandoned, who his creators, these virtual strangers, are. Questions he hasn't dared to ask. Maybe because he thinks knowing the answers will be worse. Or maybe because he doesn't want them to know he cares. Yes, he has a million questions, but not one answer. With one almost effortless move of his hand, he can uncover a glimpse into the past that just might give him some of those answers. It's a strange thing to stand before a closed door. To be afraid of what lies ahead, but be tempted to enter nonetheless. And, there's no one more tempted than Brandon at that moment.

Silencing the debate raging on in his head, his hand goes for the frame taking it out of the box and setting it on his bed. He reaches inside the box and finds several pictures. There, two-dimensional but in living color, are his parents, from a lifetime ago. The clothes, hairstyles, and locations change. In one, they're in a gym. She's in her cheerleader uniform and he's wearing a tie loose around his neck. In another, they're dressed up at a concert. In yet another, he's sporting a short haircut and a tan jacket sitting next to her behind a sign that says Tric. There's a common thread to all of them. In every single one, they are either smiling or all-out laughing…touching each other, whether it's an arm around his shoulders or her waist, a hand over his mouth or even his forehead on hers. The last one lingers in his hands a bit longer than the rest. It feels different somehow. They're slow dancing. She's wearing a strapless red dress and her curled hair is pulled to the side. He's in a black suit with a white rose pinned on his jacket. Must be a formal event; maybe the prom or a wedding. It's the only one they're not smiling in. Yet, they look the happiest in that moment. Her eyes closed, she's resting her head and hand on his chest. Like she's in desperate need of a shelter and he's the only home she's got. His cheek resting on her forehead, his arms encircle her. Like he knows they fit so perfectly that he never wants to let go. Answer number one…they used to be happy and in love. This must be what Lily means…a rare moment of pure bliss that makes you believe. But, all that one answer manages to do is raise one more question. Why then…why did they let each other go? When he's startled by a knock on his door, he hears Brooke's voice call for him.

B: "Brandon, can I come in?"

He quickly gets up and starts to hurriedly put the pictures, the frame and the card back in the box.

Br: "Yeah."

Opening the door, Brooke stands leaning against the doorframe.

B: "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Br: "Sure."

Taking it as an invitation to enter, Brooke closes the door behind her and walks in a few steps closer to him.

B: "About what happened downstairs, Victoria can be…"

Br: "Let me go first. I overreacted. I'm sorry."

It takes Brooke a few seconds to register the apology. It's completely unexpected. No, coming from Brandon, it's absolutely shocking. But, the remorse sounds and looks genuine. She wonders what Lily said to him and makes a mental note to thank her later.

B: "You don't have to apologize. Really. I know better than anyone how much of a bitch…I mean how harsh she can be. She knows exactly the right nerve to hit. Sometimes I think she believes it's a gift. To the rest of us, it feels more like a curse."

Br: "I guess we can't choose who we're born to."

It becomes clear to Brooke where all this sudden empathy comes from. After all, Brandon didn't get a chance to pick his mother either. So, at least in the sucky parents territory, they seem to have found a kindred spirit in each other. As much as it depresses Brooke to be considered in the same category as Victoria in anything, she finds solace in the fact that it's led to the first ever almost decent conversation she's having with her son. Brooke smiles at the realization that having Victoria Davis as her mom is actually good for something. Finally.

B: "No, I guess we can't."

Br: "It couldn't have been easy growing up with her."

B: "It's not easy being her daughter even when I'm supposedly all grown up. We all have our burdens to bear. In all the commotion, you didn't get a chance to meet my father. He's actually ok when he wants to be, and he's really looking forward to getting to know you. Anyway, they're gone now. So, it's safe…well, safer, downstairs."

As she gets closer to Brandon, Brooke notices a picture on the floor. She bends down and picks it up. While she looks at it a little surprised and a whole lot melancholic, Brandon figures he must have dropped one of the pictures while rushing to throw them back in the box.

B: "Where did you get this?"

Br: "Lily. It must have fallen out of the box. Her birthday gift."

Brandon points to the box, the ribbon, and the torn wrapping paper on his bed.

B: "Oh."

Pictures do the impossible. In those rare moments when we feel like we'd do anything to slow down the hours and the minutes, pictures make us believe we have stopped time altogether. They freeze those shreds and patches we lose and conjure them up just when we think we can never get them back. But, it's merely a cruel trick. It's not us in that shot. It's a long-gone version of us. Lost time can't be found with a quick snap of a camera lens or on a glossy piece of paper painted with some dye. All pictures end up doing is to remind us how eternal time is regardless of how fast the precious seconds flee. Now looking at the particular picture she's holding, Brooke realizes that it carries an even deeper meaning: it's the only one of the three of them together that she knows of.

B: "This was taken at Jamie's parents' wedding reception. You are in this picture."

Confused by her revelation, Brandon walks closer to Brooke.

Br: "What do you mean?"

She holds out the picture for him to take back.

B: "I was pregnant when that was taken. So, that's a picture of your first official dance. You had some pretty decent moves for an eight-week-old."

Staring at the picture in his hand, Brandon walks backwards little by little until his legs hit the bedframe. He slowly sits down on the edge of his bed. It's the picture that made him believe. Maybe a part of him, subconsciously, knew that he was in it. Maybe it's his presence that marks it as a moment of pure bliss. Or maybe, it's despite him. Breathing becomes difficult. And, any articulate thought he may have ever had scuttles right out of his head. As if she can read his mind, Brooke decides to change the subject. Sitting down next to him on the bed, she tries to save him from getting run over by that painful truth train speeding towards them.

B: "All right. That's enough nostalgia. I can barely remember this, but there was a time when a Brooke Davis party meant a hell of a lot of fun. Not always G-rated, but I can make an exception. Since you seem dead set on staying up here, we'll have to find some way to entertain ourselves."

She stands up, and with her hands on her hips, rotates once around herself. As if she's surveying the room on some kind of secret scavenger hunt.

B: "Aha!"

Locating what she's been looking for, she walks towards the TV stand and grabs a box from one of the shelves. When she turns back to face Brandon, she has on not only her game face, but also a silly grin.

B: "How about a round of Halo?"

Br: "Seriously? You play video games?"

B: "Play? Oh, boy. You're in for a rude awakening, kid. My Master Chief is epic. Epic, I tell you. Just ask Rachel. Oh, you haven't met her yet. But, you will. We have this running tally of wins and I don't have to tell you who's rocking that list, do I? She can attest to the all kinds of carpal tunnel problems in my near future. But, it's so worth it."

Br: "I don't know. Lily said she's bringing everyone up here in a few minutes."

B: "We crossed paths on the stairs. I told her to let you be. What other lame excuse have you got?"

Sensing Brandon's hesitation, Brooke tries another approach.

B: "Wait, are you afraid?"

Br: "Of what?"

B: "A beat-down. Oh yes, I see it now. Junior's afraid to get his ass kicked by a thirtysomething in a skirt."

Accepting the challenge, Brandon quickly gets up, grabs the game from Brooke's hand and inserts it in his XBox.

Br: "You're going down, old maid."

B: "Ouch. I'm hurt. I'm really hurt. But, I'll still kick your ass just the same."

While he sets up the console, Brooke kicks off her high heels and uses the remote to turn the TV on. They both sit side by side on the floor of his bedroom leaning against his bedframe. Each with a smile on their faces and a controller at hand, they wait for the game to start.

Br: "You are so going to regret you ever challenged me."

B: "Can you see me shaking in my boots? Bring it on, grasshopper."

As the game begins and they start customizing their characters, Brooke can't help but think that this very instant, right then and there, is what pictures must be made for. A perfect candidate for a frozen moment of time. Two people who haven't quite found their way onto the same plane, sharing a few stolen minutes indulging in the lightness of simple pleasures in life. While Brooke and Brandon shut out the world upstairs, the party continues downstairs. Jake and Peyton are catching up with Lucas and Karen out on the terrace. In the living room, Jamie and Cris are talking about the upcoming basketball season while Lily and JJ grill Skylar on everything Brandon. And, in the kitchen, Nathan is uncomfortably stuck between Rachel and Haley in a conversation as snarky as conversations come. At first, they both try to keep their insults to the intelligently cloaked kind, but it doesn't last very long. Across the kitchen counter from Nathan and Haley, Rachel is on a mission to make the perfect dry martini. As she searches the kitchen cabinets for a bottle of gin, she can't see how much her recent move to Tree Hill stuns Haley.

Haley: "You bought a house?"

Rachel: "Rented. It's just a month-to-month lease. So, no need to freak out. You've got enough frown lines on that forehead. Martini, Nathan?"

Nathan: "I don't drink."

R: "Yeah right. And, that wasn't a beer bottle you just threw in the trash."

N: "Root beer."

R: "Very funny."

N: "I'm serious. I've been sober for eight months. It's a long story."

Wondering if the sobriety has anything to do with the separation from Haley, Rachel wipes the mocking smile off her face.

R: "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Haley, how about a glass for you?"

She finds the gin in the freezer and the vermouth in the fridge and takes them both out.

H: "No, thanks. Excuse me, but why did you say you moved here again?"

R: "I didn't say."

H: "Right. So, do you get paid to follow Brooke or do you just do it for fun?"

N: "Haley!"

R: "Yes, I'm stalking Brooke. Is that what you wanted to hear? The big bad Rachel just pops up whenever, wherever she's not supposed to. She doesn't have a life so she's shadowing Brooke. Is that it?"

H: "You said it. Not me."

Taking the shaker from inside the kitchen cabinet, Rachel pours a couple ounces of gin and a hint of dry vermouth, adds some ice cubes, and starts shaking.

R: "Even if that's true, that's not why you're so peeved."

H: "Oh, so now you know how I feel and why?"

R: "The barrel full of mud you're slinging my way makes you clear as day actually."

H: "The googly eyes you're making at _my_ husband make you as obvious as that nose job."

When Nathan realizes that he's had a smile on his face the whole time he's been watching Haley practically hiss like a snake, he feels bad for enjoying himself a little too much.

N: "Can we please keep me out of this? Whatever this is."

Smiling, Rachel holds high the shaker perfecting the mix.

R: "I'm afraid you're smack in the middle, Nate. This little jealousy fit is really very cute, Haley."

H: "I'm not jealous! I just find it pitiful that, after all these years, you're still going after unavailable men."

Haley is clearly exasperated that Rachel manages to provoke her into bringing out not only her defensive side but also the malicious one. It infuriates her even more that Rachel remains calm the whole time with a smirk on her face while she strains her drink into a glass.

R: "That's funny. But, here's the thing. Doesn't separated mean available? I'm an airhead and all, so maybe you can help me with something. People separate when they no longer want to be together, right? So, who exactly is the third wheel here? You know what? Don't answer that. My martini's done and you've officially stopped being amusing. I'm out."

Grabbing her glass off the counter, she throws in three green olives for nutritional value. As she walks away, she has one final thought for Nathan.

R: "Good luck with that, Nate. You know how to find me if you get bored with old baggage."

Haley growls in frustration, bangs her clenched fist on the kitchen counter, and without one look at Nathan, starts to walk away. Nathan reaches to grab her arm, but she marches past him. So, he follows her down the hallway and into the study.

N: "Haley! Stop for a second. Please."

She stops walking, and with her back turned to Nathan, stares out the window motioning with her hand for him to leave the room.

H: "I want to be alone, Nathan."

He slowly approaches her and takes a seat on the windowsill facing her.

N: "That's too bad. I can't leave you like this. What just happened in there?"

H: "I made a complete fool of myself."

N: "You're not a fool."

With a smile on his face, Nathan watches as Haley waves her hands in the air while pacing back and forth in the study.

H: "Yeah? What was it that Rachel said? I'm the third wheel throwing a fit! That's who I am."

N: "You know, I'd be lying if I said I'm not enjoying this jealous side of you."

Irritated at the implication, she stops right away and looks directly at him. She tries to sound stern, but there's a slight crack in her voice that Nathan's quite familiar with.

H: "I'm not jealous!"

N: "Ok. So, why are you so mad?"

She walks closer to him and takes her place by the window again. When she responds, her voice is more steady and composed.

H: "She just gets me riled up. Despite my better judgment. The attitude, the way she talks to me, she gets on my nerves."

N: "So, this has nothing to do with me. You just don't like Rachel."

H: "Right."

N: "You'd be perfectly fine if I dated her."

H: "Exactly."

It's an automatic response that comes out before Haley even hears the question. But, when the meaning registers, she turns to look at him puzzled.

H: "Wait, what? Are you interested in her?"

Nathan meets her eyes with as much determination as he can muster up. Because, he needs her to hear his answer. Really hear.

N: "Not even a little bit. But, it's good to know you care."

There's a moment of silence as Haley turns to stare out the window again and Nathan finds a spot on the mahogany floors to focus on. They're both wary of what the other might say next. When we're stuck in an interval of uncertainty filled with as much profound fear as inspiring hope, a few of us find the courage to stay in the moment. Take the next step. Ask the question. Say what's in our hearts and minds. Most of us linger briefly while we hesitate in silence. Maybe, the moment passes. Maybe, we flee. Terrified that Haley's about to escape the moment, Nathan chooses what he considers to be a safer approach.

N: "Have you heard the good news yet?"

H: "What news?"

N: "Big brother's taking the plunge. He and Brooke are getting married."

H: "About time."

He smiles at the lack of surprise on her face. Then, he remembers that he's in the company of maybe the only other person who wonders why Brooke and Lucas took so long to get to this inevitable point.

N: "He invited us to the wedding."

H: "Us?"

N: "Us. They're leaving Thursday morning. We can take my car. I'll pick you up after breakfast. I can drive, but…"

H: "Back up. Driving? Where's the wedding?"

N: "Myrtle Beach. Before you ask, I don't know why. We'll be staying at Rachel's beach house for a few days."

H: "Nathan, I don't think that's a good idea."

Haley fidgets as she objects. Seeing her expression change, Nathan tries his best to convince her to come along.

N: "You can't say no. This is your best friend's wedding. You're really going to miss it? Why? Because I'll be there? We can stay in separate rooms and I can leave you alone the whole time if that's what you want."

H: "I don't know."

N: "Is it because it's Rachel's house? I know you said you're not jealous, and you probably don't want to hear this, but I still have to say it."

He stands up, reaches for her hands, and looks straight into her eyes.

N: "You're the one I want to be with, Haley. Not her, not anybody else. It's always been you. Only you. Forever."

When a single tear escapes down her right cheek, Nathan reaches a hand and wipes it away. Taking a step forward to close to gap between them, he gently takes her into his arms. With one hand around her waist, he places the other on the back of her head burying it in her hair. Her arms stay by her side for a moment as she resists. Haley hasn't let Nathan touch her, leave aside hug her, for longer than she dares to remember. But, it's an old habit for her arms to find their way around his shoulders. There's no use stopping what's second nature. So, as she surrenders to his hug, she also gives in to the wedding invitation.

H: "Ok."

N: "Yeah?"

H: "Yes."

While Nathan and Haley talk in the study, Rachel approaches the younger crowd and pulls Skylar aside.

R: "Come with me."

Skylar refuses to follow her and stands her ground with arms crossed over her chest.

Skylar: "What, no magic word?"

R: "Chocolate. No? Chanel. George Clooney. Wait, you're sixteen. Zac Efron? That British vampire guy? Oh, I know. Harry Potter. Whatever. You pick the magic word. Pretend I said it. Come on."

Rachel starts walking again and this time, amused just the right amount, Skylar trails her.

S: "You get a B minus for effort."

R: "Nice. I must have improved since high school."

Mildly concerned that she just set a bad example, she stops and turns around.

R: "I don't have to tell you to stay in school, study, and, you know, aim higher than a B minus, right?"

S: "No need. They say I'm a shoo-in at Harvard."

As she returns to walk down the hallway, Rachel can't hide her disbelief.

R: "Really?"

S: "Yeah, they have people serving coffee or mopping floors at Harvard too."

Rolling her eyes, Rachel motions with her head for the youngster to pick up the pace.

R: "Let's go, smartass."

When they reach the bathroom, she pulls Skylar inside and locks the door behind them. While Rachel leans her back against the door, the teen takes a few steps back and holds up her hands.

S: "Uhm…should I be worried? Are you going to stab me in the shower or drown me in the toilet bowl?"

R: "No, God no. I just wanted to talk to you. How are you?"

S: "How am I? Seriously? You drag me away and lock me in a bathroom to ask me how I'm doing?"

R: "Well, how are you doing?"

S: "A little creeped out at the moment, but it's nothing that martini wouldn't fix."

R: "That's not happening. Even in a bathroom, you're still underage."

S: "You asked."

Skylar shrugs off Rachel's refusal to hand over the alcohol. But, the growing sinking feeling in her stomach is much more difficult to get rid of. Yes, she knew from the moment she saw Rachel walking over to her how this conversation would go. They can make all the small talk they want and she can probably come up with a few jokes to delay the inevitable. But, any and all attempts to slow down time do just the opposite: the seconds start rolling in quicker. That is until the unavoidable hits us right in the face.

R: "Listen, you've been avoiding me all evening. I get it. We got cut off earlier when Brooke, Lily, and Karen came in. You were about to tell me…"

S: "Stop! I know what you're going to ask me, so save your breath. It's none of your business."

R: "See, that's where you're wrong. I want to help you."

S: "Aren't you being a little presumptuous? Who says I need help?"

R: "Skylar, that bruise on your shoulder…it's not from a clumsy fall. Someone grabbed you, maybe even shook you, so hard that he left that mark on you. I'm here if you want to talk about it."

S: "Why should I tell you anything? You're not my mother. You're not my friend. We just met a few hours ago. You don't even know me."

R: "It doesn't matter. None of that changes the fact that I do want to help you, if you'll let me. Please tell me what happened. Who hurt you?"

S: "There's nothing to tell."

Skylar averts her eyes, because, all of a sudden, she finds it quite distressing to lie to this stranger whose worry seems sincere. Rachel interprets the lack of eye contact as her meddling intimidating Skylar. So, she backs down, because intimidation is the last thing she wants to do to a possible victim of violence.

R: "Okay. Look, I don't mean to force you to do anything you don't want to do. But, I want you to know my offer stands. I've been told I'm a good listener."

S: "Can I go now?"

R: "One more thing. May I have your phone? I only need it for a second? I promise, no snooping."

S: "I can go if I give it to you?"

Rachel nods her head agreeing to the deal. Skylar reaches inside her cardigan pocket and places her mobile on the hand held out in front of her. She anxiously watches Rachel play with the phone for a few seconds until she hands it back to her.

R: "Now it's Rachel-enabled. Call me if you change your mind. Anytime, anywhere."

Unlocking the door, Rachel steps aside so her quasi hostage can exit. As she walks out, Skylar dismisses the suggestion.

S: "I wouldn't wait by the phone if I were you."

Most of the time, what we end up saying isn't what we really mean. We think we can protect ourselves better if we monitor our words. But, our nonverbal cues are difficult to restrain. They are much more straightforward in communicating exactly how we feel. If Rachel could see the faint smile on Skylar's face and the tight grip she keeps on the phone in her pocket, she would stop wondering whether her attempt to help is a failure. When Skylar exits the bathroom and turns into the hallway, she immediately bumps into Jamie.

S: "Watch where you're…"

When she sees that Jamie is frozen his stand and furious in his stare, which isn't directed at her, she stops mid-sentence and follows his gaze into the study across the hallway from the bathroom. What she sees beyond the open door are two people in a hug with her head buried in his chest and his in her hair.

S: "Hasn't anyone told you it's not polite to intrude in an intimate moment? Who are they?"

Skylar jumps back when Jamie, with furrowed eyebrows and a growl, lashes out in rage kicking and punching the wall before him. She can see blood on his knuckles, but it doesn't even faze Jamie.

J: "Unfuckingbelievable!"

The commotion and yelling disrupt Nathan and Haley's hug. As she sees her son stare at her practically shooting flames of fury out of his eyes, Haley quickly parts from Nathan and starts heading towards her son.

H: "Jamie, this is not what you think."

But, Jamie is all out of patience for lame explanations. He's already heard, more than once, the feeble excuses her mother made to justify staying with his father. He doesn't intend to wait around to be lied to again, so he turns around and rushes out the front door. A frantic Haley starts to follow him, but Skylar stops her.

S: "You can go after him if you want, but he's too angry to listen to you. Will you let me talk to him?"

H: "Who are you?"

S: "I'm Sky. I'm his friend. And, I'm betting he likes me a little better than you right now."

Haley stares behind Jamie who's already disappeared out of sight, and then looks back at Skylar. Getting the nod from Haley, Skylar smiles and runs down the hallway and out the door to catch up to Jamie. While Nathan and Haley stand together in the hallway wondering if their son will ever come around, Brooke is upstairs, with her son, content to be sharing a few minutes of relative peace with him. Incredulous that he just lost the video game, Brandon throws the controller onto his bed and stares at a self-satisfied Brooke.

Br: "You cheated!"

B: "What? You want a rematch? Anytime, any place, junior."

Br: "Why? So you can cheat again?"

B: "You're kind of a sore loser, aren't you? I could let you win next time. Would that be better?"

Br: "There's no way you're this pretty and this good at video games."

B: "You think I'm pretty?"

Smiling and shaking his head, Brandon gets up from the floor and goes over to the TV stand to turn off the game, the console and the TV. Brooke also stands up and puts her shoes back on.

B: "So."

Br: "So."

B: "About that party downstairs…"

Br: "I could have some cake."

The nerves fade away, leaving a relaxed smile in their place. On both their faces. Brooke looks down, bites her bottom lip, and looks back up at Brandon again.

B: "Ok."

Br: "It's just cake."

As she opens the door and walks out with Brandon close behind, Brooke corrects him.

B: "Wait till you taste it. Karen's baking is out of this world. Especially if chocolate's involved."

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Brooke sees Rachel coming out of the bathroom.

B: "Why don't you go ahead without me? I need to talk to Rachel first. But, I'll get a piece of cake and find you in a minute."

As Brooke goes to gush at Rachel over her recent semi-bonding session, Brandon makes his way through the kitchen past Haley venting at Karen about something he can't hear and Nathan staring at them from not too far away. As he walks in the living room looking for Skylar, he sees the familiar sight of Lily sitting in Cris's lap while she plays with his curly hair. JJ takes a break from switching the playlist on her iPod and looks up to smile at him. And, he smiles back. When he can't locate Sky inside, he heads for the terrace. We all have those moments of tranquillity. We feel safe, even a little happy. Like, everything is as it should be. For once. Brandon's having one of those uncommon moments of stillness. There's no urge to fight in him, no anger, no sadness. As if he's just a teenage boy in search of his best friend and a piece of birthday cake. But, time is rarely fair or forgiving. When we dare find that sliver of peace, the seconds start to feel too short and swift. Here now, and gone the next. And, as he steps outside on the terrace and sees Lucas in a tight embrace with the blond woman from his yearbook pictures, the harmony within vanishes. He should have known to expect another disaster around the corner. After all, peace has never been fond of Brandon Walker.

"_These times of ours are serious and full of calamity, but all times are essentially alike. As soon as there is life, there is danger."  
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson, 19__th__ century American author_


	17. Time is Eternity: Part Four

**Author's Note: **Happy holidays everyone! I hope you're drinking enough eggnog to keep you warm. Or hot chocolate. Or tequila. Hey, I don't discriminate. If you were naughty enough this year, Santa may just get you a birthday party like Brandon's next year. One can only hope. Before we return to the story, I'd like to let Clark Griswold have his say too: _"This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse." ~Christmas Vacation, 1989_

"_Time cools, time clarifies; no mood can be maintained quite unaltered through the course of hours."  
~Mark Twain, 19th century American author_

Skylar Madsen believes that there are a handful of tried and true impossibilities in life. When she was young, her mother used to say that if she worked hard enough, she could do anything she put her mind to. And, she believed her. That's why when addiction turned her mother into a shadow of her old self, Skylar cried hard, wished every day, and prayed every night for a return to the past. That's how she found out the hard way that she can't bring back time. She also knows that she can't make people do things they don't want to do. Like love her, believe in her, or simply stay with her. She knows, because she's tried those, too. Chasing after what's out of reach, someone who only wants to run away, is the last on that list of impossibilities. Yet, she finds herself doing exactly that. This time, she's chasing after Jamie who seems to be extremely good at disappearing without a trace. So, she takes a chance and heads for the beach. Because something tells him Jamie Scott is the kind of person who finds solace in the disorder of the waves, in the way they take a piece of the beach back into the ocean with them every time they crash onshore. Maybe, he even lets the moon and the high tide soak in some of his pain and anger. She takes a chance, and it just happens to pay off. She finds him sitting on the sand close to the ocean staring out in space. So, she approaches quietly and puts her left hand on his right shoulder. Put on attack mode by the intrusion, he grabs her hand and pulls her down on the beach. When he sees that it's Skylar, he immediately takes a step back and drops her on the sand. As she gets up dusting the sand off herself, she teases an unapologetic Jamie.

Skylar: "Geez, who did you think I was? Jack, the Ripper?"

Jamie: "If you sneak up on people, you should expect a little self-defense. How did you find me?"

S: "I promise no locator spell was involved. I just have a knack for finding people. Ok, fine. I guessed. What are you doing here anyway?"

J: "Trying to figure out how my mother forgot all about the last few years."

S: "I see. I can leave you alone if that's a solo mission."

J: "No, stay. I've been alone long enough."

He sits back down on the beach, looks up at her smiling, and pats his hand a couple of times on the patch of sand next to him.

S: "Stealing my move?"

J: "But, you do it with so much more sass."

S: "Well, check you out. There really is honor among thieves."

She takes off her boots and socks, and sits down on the sand next to him.

S: "So, that was your mother. And, is the man your father?"

J: "He used to be."

S: "You're a very unusual guy, Jamie Scott. Most children want their parents together."

J: "Most children don't have an adulterous addict for a father and a hopeless romantic for a mother."

Putting the back of her head on his shoulder, Skylar looks up at the sky.

S: "How good are you at math?"

J: "Two plus two is four."

S: "Gold star!"

S: "I've read somewhere that there are three thousand million billion stars in the universe. How many zeroes does that make?"

J: "Well, there's only about a few hundred visible right now."

Nervous about what she's about to say, she turns to face him.

S: "Funny you should mention that. So, basically what you're saying is that our eyes can easily deceive us. That what we see isn't the whole story."

Jamie looks back at her slightly amused by the lack of subtlety.

S: "What? I suck at math but I rock at analogies."

When instead of opening up, Jamie turns to stare over at the dark ocean again, a moment of silence follows. Expecting that he wouldn't be forthcoming with answers so easily, Skylar tries a more direct approach.

S: "Could your mother be right? Maybe, just maybe, what you saw wasn't what you thought."

J: "Oh, it's exactly what I thought. As hugs go, that one screamed _I'm still in love with him_."

S: "And that would be the end-of-the-world, punch-the-wall kind of bad because…"

J: "Long story."

S: "I've got time."

There's something about sharing the stillness of the night with a stranger. Someone who doesn't know our past or the reasons for our present agony. Someone who listens without judgment. All of a sudden, we feel like there's someone on our side. As if the sky and the ocean both shift and lean back to listen to us. And, it becomes just a little bit easier to talk. So, Jamie tells Skylar all about Nathan's accident and the nightmare of the following years. How her father's problems with alcohol and drugs led to not only the implosion of his parents' marriage, but also the destruction of his relationship with his father. He tells her about how his mother finally filed for separation after walking in on his father with another woman in their own bed. How the verbal abuse got even worse until Jamie had to resort to violence himself.

N: "He claims he's sober now. That he's sorry. He wants us back. Blah blah blah."

S: "And you don't believe him?"

N: "It wasn't all bad…those years. There would be a few days or a week here and there where he seemed like his old self. I thought I had my dad back. I think that's why mom stayed with him for so long. But, it never lasted."

S: "You think it won't last now either."

J: "I don't think. I know."

S: "That's too bad. I had such high hopes for you."

Seeing Skylar shake her head and look away, Jamie's puzzled.

S: "Aren't you too young to be so cynical? It's sad when you can no longer trust or forgive. It's lonely when you prefer to shut people out rather than give them another chance."

J: "Here comes the judgment. How would you know?"

S: "No judgment, just an observation. I used to be the poster child for cynicism, Jamie. I'm barely sixteen years old. I never met my father. My mother's dead. She was an addict, worse than your father by the way. The only person who's ever taken care of me, my grandmother, is dead, too. Cancer. I've lived with, well God knows how many, foster families. None of whom were exactly the homey type."

J: "I didn't know. I didn't mean to…"

S: "Save it. If you haven't noticed, I'm the one feeling sorry for _you_."

J: "Look, you don't know my father. You can't imagine how it was living with him. You weren't the one who found him, more than once, passed out on the floor, the sofa, the bathroom tiles or even out on the front yard. You didn't have to call 911, even cursed that he sired you while you held his hand in the ambulance. Or while you waited in the hospital while they pumped his stomach. You weren't afraid of him most of the time or took it silently while he yelled insults at you, told you that you'll never be good enough or…"

S: "…put a pillow over your head or hid under the bed while she came home high with strange men night after night? Well, that last one might be just me. But the rest, I did all those things and more. I know too well about being sad and lonely. And, it's a terrible place to be."

There's a peculiar kind of comfort in finding someone who feels our pain. We feel relief in being understood, in knowing we're not alone. But, guilt follows when we realize that we're basically finding solace in someone else's hurt. Feeling that guilt rush over him, Jamie drops his chin and looks down.

J: "Your mother."

S: "My mother. She died of a heroine overdose when I was eleven. After all this time, despite all the crap she put me through, I'd still do anything to get her back. You see, it's all relative. You're lucky. Your father is still here. Better yet, he's sober and he wants to be your father. I promise you that you'll regret it one day if you don't give him a chance."

J: "It's not that easy."

S: "I'm not saying do it tonight. I'm not even saying do it tomorrow. Just keep an open mind. If he's really changed, you'll know."

J: "And if he's lying, if it's just another trick, do I just sit back and watch mom fall for it again?"

Skylar feels silly for not figuring out sooner that Jamie's concern is more for his mother than himself. She thinks it must be a family trait. Since the day she's met Brandon, he's put her well-being before his own every single time. It seems Jamie is no different. But, Skylar knows that if there's one incontrovertible truth about love, it's that attempting to protect anyone from that kind of hurt is futile. She smiles and looks up at the stars again.

S: "Have you ever been in love, Jamie?"

J: "What does that have to do with anything?"

S: "I take that as a no. Relax buster, me neither. So, can we agree that neither of us is an expert when it comes to love?"

J: "I guess so."

S: "I don't think it's anything like in the movies or romance novels. You see someone across a crowded room, fall in love at first sight, and live happily ever after. In fact, I think fairytales are bullshit. Hearts break. It doesn't matter how careful we are with them. They just break. And, it's ok. Because we're not perfect. People let you down. Life's a big old mess. We don't get to choose who we love. Sometimes we trust the wrong people. But, how are we supposed to know if they're right or wrong if we don't try? What I'm trying to say is that maybe you should let your mother try. You don't have to protect her all the time. From what you told me, she knows exactly what she's getting herself into."

J: "You know, you're different than I thought you'd be."

S: "Really? There I was thinking I make a fantastic first impression."

J: "You're easy to talk to. I mean I've told Lily about all this, and JJ. But, there's something about telling you…"

S: "I like talking to you, too."

For a few seconds, they both sit there looking into each other's eyes. Silently and smiling. Then, she notices the blood from the scrape on his knuckles and reaches to take his right hand.

S: "God, your hand! Let me see that."

Holding his hand in the palm of hers, she uses the sleeve of her cardigan to gently wipe the blood off the wound.

J: "Don't do that. It'll ruin your sweater."

S: "What? This old thing? I don't care. The blood's clotted, but it can still get infected. You should get it checked out."

He takes his hand back and opening wide his fingers and then making a fist, demonstrates full range of motion.

J: "It's fine. It doesn't even hurt."

S: "Hospital phobia? Ok. I have a better idea. Well, maybe not better, but definitely more fun."

Jamie watches her as she gets up swiftly, takes her cardigan off, and drops it on the sand.

J: "What are you doing?"

S: "We're going swimming. I hear salt water sterilizes open wounds."

J: "I don't think that's a good idea."

She pulls her T-shirt over her head, unzips her skirt and drops both on the sand next to her cardigan.

S: "I know it might sting a little bit, but having a hot naked girl with you will be enough distraction, don't you think?

J: "Sky, it's past 10pm, we really shouldn't be doing this."

She takes off her rings and necklace, and places them in the pocket of her skirt. Standing in only her underwear and with hands on her hips, she does her best to motivate Jamie.

S: "Hmmm…is the brave Jamie Scott afraid of the dark? I'll protect you from the big bad sea monsters. Come on handsome, get up!"

Smiling wide, she walks backwards for a few steps while she flirtingly gestures with her index finger for him to join her. As he watches her turn around, run down the beach, and dive into the water, Jamie knows he's a goner. For having met her only a few hours ago, he finds that there just might be very little, if any, of which he can deprive her. Especially when she asks while half naked. After all, Jamie Scott is a teenage boy. Hormones and all. So, he gets up, kicks off his shoes, unbuttons his shirt, and takes his jeans off. Dropping his clothes next to hers on the sand, he follows her into the water.

While Skylar manages to do the impossible and calm Jamie down, Brandon wishes she were there to do the same for him. He's standing on the terrace staring at his father in a tight embrace with a woman. Behind them, the moon is high in the sky and its reflection dances on the dark ocean. The candles in the rice paper lanterns hanging from the railing dimly illuminate the terrace. It would make for a perfect setting for one of those romantic movie endings. Except, it's the wrong woman. She's not the one he's meant for. Or maybe she is. Maybe this is how it's all supposed to end. Maybe this whole marriage idea is as ridiculous as he first thought. And, the three of them being a family is just a pipe dream. Brooke's fantasy. _Brooke_. At the thought of her mother, Brandon quickly looks around and into the living room to make sure she's nowhere close enough to see the sight before him. Time is irrelevant when we care for someone. We may know them for years, but never really see the reality behind their masks. Or we may have met them only days ago, but feel the need to protect them from hurt nonetheless. Yes, Brandon Walker doesn't want Brooke Davis anywhere near what's about to happen. Because, he wants to spare her the familiar pain of broken dreams. As he slowly walks closer to Lucas and Peyton, he starts clapping his hands. Neither the applause nor the grin on his face is out of enjoyment or approval, of course. And, his words reveal his anger and disgust.

Brandon (Br): "Take a bow, daddy. That was some performance you put on. Except, you may want to let your fiancé in on the fact that the curtain fell on this show. Which was just pathetic, by the way."

Baffled, Lucas parts from an equally confused Peyton.

Lucas: "Brandon, what are you talking about?"

Now only a few feet from them, Brandon holds out a hand and Peyton hesitantly shakes it.

Br: "You must be Penny."

Peyton: "Peyton."

Br: "Whatever. It's so great to finally meet you. I've only read about these grand, timeless romances in books. So, you can imagine my astonishment to see one in flesh and blood in front of me. You know, like you and pops here. Excuse me if I'm a little tongue-tied."

P: "We were just saying goodbye."

L: "Son, this is not what you think."

Br: "Oh, come the fuck on! It's not like I'm revealing some long lost secret here. I've seen your drawings. I've seen the damn yearbook pictures! It's pretty clear Patty here is why you shipped your pregnant girlfriend to God knows where."

While Brandon yells at them, Lucas and Peyton simply stare at him, too shocked to say anything. Jake takes a couple of steps forward to stand behind Peyton and puts a supportive arm around her shoulders.

Br: "Oh, this gets better and better. Are you the poor shmuck on substitute duty? Don't feel bad, man. They fooled all of us. You're bold, both of you. I'll give you that. I mean, Brooke could have walked in on this precious moment of yours. You are under _her_ damn roof after all. And you…apparently you made the mistake of bringing the flavor of the month to this secret rendezvous. That's just plain stupid. Oh, Peggy, Peggy, Peggy. If you're going to have an affair, at least be smart about it. But, they say love makes us do stupid…"

JJ: "Stop it! Just shut the hell up!"

Stepping in between Brandon and her mother, JJ shoves him in the chest hard enough to make him stumble back a step. She turns to her mother with a worried look.

JJ: "Mom, are you ok?"

This time, it's Brandon's turn to be perplexed.

Br: "Mom?"

JJ: "Yes, jackass. Mom."

P: "I'm fine, Jenny. Brandon just misunderstood what he saw. That's all."

JJ: "No mom, I heard him. You don't have to cover for him. Idiot has no idea what he's talking about."

She turns to Lucas and makes sure he gets a piece of her frustrated mind as well.

JJ: "And you just stood there letting him berate her. Telling all these lies! What kind of a friend, what kind of a father are you?"

Jake: "Jenny, please. Lucas didn't even get a chance to say anything. Peyton, honey, we should go home."

As Jake and Peyton start walking out, they realize JJ is not following them.

P: "Jenny, are you coming?"

JJ: "I have my car here. I'll be right behind you."

As Brandon turns around to see Jake and Peyton leave, he notices that the commotion has brought everyone out to the terrace. Including Brooke. The person in whose name he created this mess. The only person he had intended to protect from it. As their eyes meet, he wishes she can see the apology in his as clearly as he sees the disappointment in hers. He doesn't get a chance to talk to her when he feels JJ yank his arm.

JJ: "Hey, moron! What the hell was that?"

Br: "I didn't know."

JJ: "You didn't know what? That she was my mother?"

Br: "I thought you said her name was Nikki."

JJ: "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Peyton adopted me when Nikki disappeared. So, it was my mother you accused of having a sordid affair. And, it was my dad you called a poor schmuck!"

Br: "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

JJ: "But it's ok to insult someone who's not related to me? What is your damn problem anyway?"

Br: "I…uhm, I thought…"

JJ: "You know what? I don't care. Just stay away from my parents. And, stay the hell away from me."

As a furious JJ scurries out of the house, Brandon smacks his hand on his forehead.

Br: "Rats."

Seeing that JJ's about to disappear out of sight, he starts running after her.

Br: "JJ, wait! Please! JJ!"

Lucas grabs his arm to stop him right as he's about to go out the front door.

L: "You're not going anywhere. We have to talk."

Br: "Not now."

He yanks his arm away from Lucas's grip and starts running through the garden. When he finally catches up to JJ, she's already in her car about to drive away.

Br: "Stop! Please, just stop!"

Seeing him practically throw his body in front of her car, she gets even more irritated, turns off the ignition, and steps out of the car.

JJ: "Do you have a death wish?"

Br: "I can't let you leave like this."

JJ: "So you decide to get run over instead?"

Br: "Stopped you, didn't it?"

Shaking her head, JJ goes back inside the car again.

JJ: "Well, not for long."

In probably the quickest move he's ever made, Brandon leans inside through the open car window and grabs the keys off the ignition.

JJ: "What the hell?"

Br: "I said I'm not letting you leave."

Livid with his boldness, she gets out of the car, slams the door shut, and starts walking towards him as if she's on the warpath gunning for her worst enemy.

JJ: "Do you prefer death by firing squad or arsenic? Personally, I'm partial to my scarf around your neck!"

As he walks backwards, Brandon pleads for a chance to explain himself.

Br: "Ten minutes. I just want to talk to you for ten minutes. If you still want to kill me after that, I'll get you a gun myself. We should spare the scarf. It's too nice to be a weapon."

JJ finally stops, but her stare shows how enraged she still is. Dangling her car keys high in the air, Brandon uses his last card to convince her.

Br: "Ten minutes and you get your keys back."

She tries to reach for the keys, but all she grabs is empty air.

JJ: "I hate you so much right now."

Br: "It's ok. I'm an acquired taste."

JJ: "You have ten minutes. Start talking."

Br: "Not here. The beach? Walk with me."

JJ: "I need my keys to lock the car."

Not trusting that she wouldn't just drive away if he hands her back the keys, he uses them to lock the car himself. When he turns to face her, he motions with his hand for her to take the lead. She exhales deeply, and starts walking down the wooden steps by the house that takes them directly down to the ocean. When they finally reach the beach, they walk quietly side by side. Looking at her watch, JJ reminds him of their deal.

JJ: "You have six minutes and 32 seconds left. Better use them wisely."

When Brandon's still silent, she stops and crosses her arms over her chest.

JJ: "31 seconds. 30…29…28…"

Br: "Ok, ok. Geez! I didn't know you were such a stickler for the rules."

JJ: "Don't tell me you can't perform under pressure."

Br: "Oh, I can perform. It's just my audience isn't quite friendly at the moment."

JJ: "What do you expect? You are holding me hostage."

Br: "JJ, I'm sorry."

Dropping her arms down by her sides, she starts walking again, and he joins her.

JJ: "You said that already."

Br: "I honestly didn't know they were your parents."

JJ: "You said that, too."

Br: "You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?"

JJ: "Oh, I'm sorry. Was I supposed to? Show me where it says that I should give the bozo, who tore into the two people I care about the most in the world, a break?"

Br: "Look, I know I was harsh, but I couldn't help it. It's not entirely out of the blue."

She stops again, and looks at him confused.

JJ: "What the hell does that mean?"

Br: "How much do you know about your mother's past with Lucas?"

JJ: "They have a past?"

Br: "Yes. I don't know much, but I do know they were together in high school."

JJ: "You're angry about a relationship older than we are?"

Br: "You don't understand."

JJ: "You're right. I don't. None of this makes any sense."

Br: "Brooke was pregnant with me when Lucas was with your mother. He left one girlfriend pregnant and moved onto to another!"

JJ: "You know that for a fact?"

Br: "I saw the pictures. The timing works. This must be why they gave me up. So he could be with her!"

Annoyed, JJ looks down and shakes her head. As she starts walking down the beach again, she gives him a short, gruff laugh.

JJ: "You don't know anything, do you? You found a few pictures here and there, you did some basic math, and you act like you know what happened. Like you understand how things were back then? How they are now? You know nothing. But, it doesn't stop you from judging people, from attacking them. That's just messed up."

Br: "I don't have to ask to know. It's pretty damn clear."

JJ: "That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. My parents have been happily married for almost ten years. They were together for years before that. I've never even met your father until you showed up. There is no affair. No, what did you call it? A timeless romance? There is no such thing between your father and my mother. You cannot project whatever issues you have with your parents onto mine. Instead of attacking people with baseless accusations and hurtful insults, why don't you ask first? What are you so afraid of, Brandon? The truth?"

Br: "Yes! Ok? I'm afraid of the truth!"

He stops short in a rare moment of vulnerability and the honesty is no less than shocking for JJ.

Br: "I'm afraid they're going to tell me that I'm the reason for this entire mess. That their life would have been perfect only if I never existed. That they gave me up because they simply didn't want me. No other reason. I'm the one that ruined everything. Me. Only me! Is that what you wanted to hear?"

JJ: "Brandon."

JJ reaches a hand to touch his arm, but already regretting what he revealed, Brandon pulls back.

Br: "No, uh-uh. This is not going to turn into a fucking pity party."

JJ: "Listen to me, you dimwit. I am capable of showing compassion even to those I hate. I think you're wrong, by the way."

Br: "About which part?

JJ: "All of it. But mostly about being the one that ruined everything. Since you've met them, has Brooke or Lucas ever said or done one thing that even hints at that? God, they both packed up their entire life and moved here just so they can have you! Stop being so stubborn and accept what's right in front of your nose. Your parents want you. Poor little you! So, no, you're not getting a fucking pity party. Because you don't need one. Talk to them, Brandon. The truth can't be worse than all these crazy theories in your head."

When JJ starts to walk again, Brandon stays behind engrossed in thought. He exhales deeply, and shoving his hands in his jean pockets, runs a few steps to catch up to her.

Br: "So, you still want to kill me?"

JJ: "Oh yeah. But, you did come down the hit list somewhat. You know, right below the cast of Jersey Shore but barely above animal print jumpsuits."

Br: "Does that mean I have a chance to survive the night?"

JJ: "Let's just say that it's strike one, which puts you on temporary suspension. If you push it, I won't hesitate to make it permanent. We're not our parents, Brandon. Whatever did happen between them back then, it doesn't have to affect us. Unless we let it."

Both with faint smiles on their faces, they keep walking until JJ spots a pile of clothes on the beach.

JJ: "What's a beach at night without skinny dippers?"

When they look over at the ocean, they see a man carrying a woman out of the water and towards the shore. As he squints to see clearer, Brandon is surprised at the sight.

Br: "Is that…?"

JJ: "That's Jamie, and the girl is…"

Brandon bends down and picks up a piece of clothing which happens to be Skylar's bloody cardigan.

Br: "Sky."

As they walk closer to the water, they can hear Skylar and Jamie arguing. She's struggling to free herself from his arms and he's holding her tight against his chest. Her wet hair flies around in the air as her hands fervently hit his back and shoulders.

S: "Put me down, Jamie. Now!"

J: "Nope, not a chance."

S: "Stop! I said let me go!"

As she pulls her hair to the side to reach down better, the bruise on her shoulder becomes visible to Brandon who picks up the pace and practically barks at Jamie.

Br: "She said to put her down! Are you deaf, Scott? Let her go!"

Startled by Brandon's voice, Jamie and Skylar both stop and turn around to see their new company. Putting Skylar down, Jamie smiles and waves JJ over.

J: "Hey guys. What are you…"

But, he doesn't get a chance to finish that thought when Brandon approaches running and punches him down onto the crashing wave. While Skylar and JJ watch Jamie fall in the water in almost slow motion, a fuming Brandon prepares for a second punch.

Br: "Stand the fuck up! Come on! It's not as much fun when you're up against someone your own size, is it?"

While a confounded Jamie remains lying down rubbing the pain off his chin, Skylar quickly steps in between the cousins. Facing Brandon, she extends her arms to stop him from coming forward.

S: "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Br: "I saw the blood on your cardigan, Sky. I saw the two of you just now…he wasn't letting you go!"

S: "Brandon Lucas Walker, you stop this! Right this minute! Jamie, are you all right?"

As Brandon slowly backs down, JJ kneels down to help Jamie up.

JJ: "You ok? Come on, you can lean on me."

J: "I'm fine."

Seeing everyone dote on whom he believes to be the real guilty party pisses Brandon off even more. So, he turns around and starts walking away. He reaches inside his jacket for a cigarette and his back pocket for his lighter. When JJ, Skylar, and Jamie find him by the pile of clothes, he's pacing back and forth on the beach smoking. As Skylar and Jamie start putting their clothes back on, Brandon demands an explanation.

Br: "Why the hell are you defending him, Red?"

S: "He doesn't need me to defend him. He didn't do anything wrong."

JJ: "What's going on here?"

J: "That's what I'd like to know. This James Dean wannabe just decked me out of nowhere."

Throwing his cigarette on the sand, Brandon gets close enough to attack Jamie again, but this time JJ gets in the way.

JJ: "What's wrong with you? First mom and dad, now Jamie. Are you on some sort of perpetual assault mode?"

Br: "She was screaming for him to let her go. He was hurting her. What was I supposed to do?"

S: "God, is that what this is about? We were playing, Brandon. I wanted to swim further out and Jamie was just being responsible. We were kidding around. He wasn't hurting me."

Br: "What about the blood?"

J: "It's mine, shithead. From my hand. I would never hurt her. If you stopped and thought for a second you'd see that. But no, you're more of a punch first, ask later kind of guy."

JJ: "You have no idea."

Facing Jamie, JJ brings a hand to his chin to inquire about the pain.

JJ: "Does it hurt?"

J: "No, I'm fine."

JJ: "Yeah right, tough guy. We should put some ice on that. Come on, I'll drive you home."

Turning to face Brandon, she holds out her hand.

JJ: "My keys."

Brandon takes her keys out of his jean pocket and drops them on her palm.

Br: "I…uhm…"

JJ: "I don't want to hear it. That's your second strike."

Without one look back, JJ and Jamie walk up the beach arm in arm. Brandon and Skylar stand side by side watching them in silence, until she wraps her arm around his and puts her head on his shoulder.

Br: "Red, the bruise on your shoulder…you want to tell me what that's about?"

S: "I will. But, just for tonight, can we pretend it doesn't exist? Just know that it has nothing to do with Jamie."

Br: "Just for tonight. Tomorrow morning, you tell me everything."

S: "First thing. I promise. You know, I usually find it chivalrous of you to come to my rescue. But, this time, there was no danger whatsoever. The mighty Lancelot knows he fucked up, right?"

Br: "Royally. And, not just with Jamie."

S: "Oh, are we crushing on Judy?"

Br: "Her name is JJ."

S: "I know, whiz kid. But, she's the Judy to your Stark."

When JJ and Jamie are out of sight, they start walking themselves. Her arm still intertwined with his, she keeps her head on his shoulder while they talk.

Br: "How long have you been sitting on that one?"

S: "Oh, a minute or two? Ever since Jamie called you a James Dean wannabe."

Br: "But, my rebellion has a damn good cause."

S: "I bet Stark believed that, too."

As Brandon and Skylar cross the beach heading towards the stairs to go back home, Brooke and Lucas are in the living room cleaning up the remains of the party. Not long after Jake and Peyton's departure, the rest of the guests began saying their goodbyes as well. Karen, Lily, and Cris were the first to go. Making sure Brooke didn't need her to stay behind, Rachel asked Nathan for a ride home. Promising Haley that he would drive around looking for Jamie, Nathan reluctantly agreed to drop off Rachel first. The last one to leave was Haley, and that was only after Lucas promised he would call right away if Jamie or Skylar came back and drive him home immediately. As she pops the last gold balloon, Brooke tries to understand what happened.

Brooke: "He was fine, Lucas. I think he was actually having a good time playing video games with me. I didn't have to force him to come down. He wanted some cake. Cake! I left him alone for one second and this happened? Not that I understand what _this_ really is."

Lucas: "It's my fault."

She stops taking down the streamers for a second and looks at him intrigued.

B: "What do you mean?"

A little afraid and a whole lot remorseful, Lucas responds cautiously.

L: "He saw me…I was saying goodbye to Peyton and Jake and…he walked in when we were hugging. He completely misinterpreted the whole thing."

B: "Oh."

Brooke returns to cleaning duty and reaches high to rip the tape hanging the last streamer off the wall. She throws all she's holding into the trash bag on the floor next to her.

L: "I'm sorry, Brooke. It was just a stupid goodbye hug."

It's the truth. There was no deception or a hidden agenda to the hug. No secret affair. It was simply two old friends saying goodbye. In fact, if Brandon had walked in a second earlier, he would have seen Lucas hug Jake first. But, sometimes, timing is everything. A split second can change the course of our entire lives. The apology is really for those split seconds in their past when Lucas made similar mistakes with Peyton. It's those mistakes that infuse just enough fire into Brandon's accusations to make him feel guilty for this particular innocent hug. And, Brooke knows all that.

B: "It's ok. I understand. Don't blame yourself. There's so much pent up anger in him that anything could have set him off."

L: "Maybe this is good. I mean, this way he gets it all out."

B: "I don't know. I feel like it's one step forward two steps back with him."

L: "Brooke, we need to tell him what happened when you were pregnant."

B: "Do you really think he's ready for that? Do you think we are? This thing we have here is already so fragile. I don't want him to hate us even more than he already does."

L: "You mean you don't want him to hate _me _even more than he already does."

Brooke drops a few more plastic cups in the trash, puts the bag down and gets closer to him.

B: "Lucas, you're not the only one with regrets when it comes to him."

L: "Come on, Brooke. If it wasn't for what I did…what I said, we wouldn't be…"

A part of Brooke wants to tell him he's right. That she blames him too. If he had held onto them tighter, if he hadn't let her go, if he had loved her more…like she loved him. But, Lucas doesn't have a monopoly on guilt. Regret is never one-sided. There's much Brooke would do differently if she had the chance. But, there are no do-overs. Time to make another choice has already come and gone. And, as someone who's lived under the heavy burden of mistakes for so long, she can't help but want to shoulder some of his load now.

B: "You can't think like that. The list of if-only's is longer than the Great Wall of China. Some things…he never has to know."

L: "Yes, he does. He deserves to know the whole truth. It's ok, Brooke. I know it's coming. The wait is the real torture."

B: "We don't have to decide anything now. Maybe we should wait for him to ask us. Let him decide when he's ready for some answers. The last thing I want to do is scare him off."

L: "Ok. We'll wait."

Lucas agrees to Brooke's request, but it doesn't mean he doesn't wonder if waiting for the right time ever works. Keith and his mom waited for years for the right time to be together. And, all they ended up having were just a couple of months of happiness. He never even knew she was pregnant when he was killed. He and Brooke are a textbook example of terrible timing. They got another chance almost seventeen years later, when he had already given up on the right time ever arriving. Maybe, there is no such thing. Maybe, we either surrender to life and let it dictate what happens and when, or we take charge and make things happen when we want them without waiting for the right time. Because, it may simply never come. And, this once, it might be better that way. It's only fair he lives in torture while he waits. The longer he can delay his son learning that his own father wished he didn't exist the better it is. Even if the wish was one of those split second mistakes. Even if it's just an illusion they live in the meantime. He exhales a deep breath as he picks up the last remaining trash bag, ties the ends, and plops it down next to the rest by the front door. In the kitchen, across the counter from him, Brooke looks around at the mess, sighs, and goes over to the fridge. She returns with two open beer bottles and hands one to Lucas.

B: "Who says we can't take a break?"

Smiling, he takes the bottle from her. Removing a party hat off the stool, he sits down. They clink their beer bottles together in a toast to a long hard day almost being over.

L: "So, you play video games?"

B: "Why is that so surprising?"

L: "It's just that I thought you'd prefer to go shopping on your free time. Not that you'd have any."

B: "You don't know everything about me, Lucas Scott."

L: "No, I guess not. Before I forget, I promised Nathan I'd talk to you about something."

B: "What is it?"

L: "He wants to come to Myrtle Beach for the wedding. He and Haley. They want to be there for us."

B: "You mean he wants to be alone with Haley. It's ok, Lucas. I get what he's trying to do and I respect that he's not giving up. I was thinking about the wedding, too."

L: "Yeah? What about it?"

B: "The kids seem to have a calming effect on Brandon. Especially Skylar and Lily. They found him today. And, the way he went after JJ just now…I don't know. I was thinking maybe we should invite them. You know, for Brandon? I want this trip to be fun for him, and if having his friends there will make it easier, I'm all for it."

L: "Is Rachel going to be ok with that? How big is the beach house anyway?"

B: "She'll be fine. There's enough room if we double up. What do you think?"

L: "If they're all coming, we'll have to invite mom too."

B: "Of course."

L: "But I thought you didn't want to make a big deal about the wedding."

B: "And, I still don't. You and I can get married at the courthouse. Just us, Rachel and Brandon. The rest of the weekend doesn't have to be about the marriage."

L: "You sure?"

B: "I think we have to. Unless we want Brandon frowning and picking fights the whole time."

L: "Ok. I'll tell mom and Lily. She'll want to bring Cris. And, Nathan can take care of Haley and Jamie."

B: "I can tell Brandon he can invite Skylar and JJ, too."

For the next few minutes, Brooke and Lucas sit across the counter sipping their beers in silence. Brooke Davis can't remember the last time she's taken a vacation. Not that this is officially a vacation. And, Lucas Scott can't remember the last time he was so willing to spend time in such a large crowd. It's the Brandon effect. He manages to do what no one else has been able to. Block out the noise. Nullify all their excuses. Cool and clarify everything around them in a matter of days. And, it reminds both of them what they have been missing all these years. How, this right here, waiting for their son to come home as they tidy up their home after his birthday party, is what their life should have been like all along. It's a bittersweet realization. One that can open a brand new can of worms. So, filing it away, Lucas changes the subject.

L: "Do you want to talk about how things went with Peyton?"

B: "Not really. I didn't throw her off the roof if that's what you're asking. Not that I wasn't tempted."

L: "So, you two are ok?"

B: "I wouldn't go that far."

Before Lucas can prod any further, they're interrupted by the sound of the front door being unlocked. They remain in their seats in the kitchen as they watch Brandon and Skylar walk down the hallway and stop at the bottom of the stairs looking at them.

B: "Hey."

L: "Cutting it pretty close to curfew, aren't you?"

Sensing the tension, Skylar fake yawns so she can have an excuse to leave them alone.

S: "Wow, I'm really tired. I'll be upstairs in bed. Oh, Jamie's fine by the way. JJ should have dropped him off at his house by now. Goodnight."

B: "Goodnight. Let me know if you need anything."

S: "Thanks, Brooke."

As Skylar goes up the stairs, Lucas also excuses himself to call Nathan and Haley about Jamie. Brooke and Brandon are left behind alone for a few minutes.

B: "You ok?"

Br: "Yes. Look, what I said before, out on the terrace…I didn't realize you were there. I really wish you hadn't heard that. I'm sorry."

B: "Two apologies in one day. Be careful, Brandon. I might get used to this."

He looks down and smiles. Hesitantly joining Brooke in the kitchen, he takes the stool next to where Lucas used to sit.

B: "Did you catch up to your friend?"

Br: "Yes, but it would have been better if I hadn't."

B: "Well, maybe I could help you make it up to her. Lucas and I were talking about the wedding trip, and we decided to invite a few more people. You already know Rachel's coming. We want to bring Karen, Lily, probably Cris, Nathan, Haley, and Jamie along as well."

He cringes at the mention of Jamie, but there's something more pressing that he's curious about.

Br: "The wedding's still on?"

B: "Yes. This wedding is happening, Brandon. This house, this family…the three of us…you can start believing in that. So, the wedding…I was hoping you could ask Skylar to stay so she can join us. And, I'm thinking you should ask JJ to come too. Maybe even as your date?"

There's a silly, _I'm-fishing-for-information_ kind of grin on Brooke's face, but Brandon chooses to ignore it.

Br: "I need a date for this thing now?"

B: "No, of course you don't need a date. We're not exactly having a reception or a party. But, we'll be out of town for a few days, which gives you enough time to get back on her good side. And, there is something about weddings that most girls can't resist."

Br: "At this point, she'd rather poke her eyes out with hot sticks."

B: "You'll never know if you don't ask."

Br: "I don't know. We'll see."

Brandon wonders if Brooke may be right. He can use reinforcements when he apologizes to Jamie and JJ. The wedding setting might just be the opportunity he needs to catch them in a good mood. Not that this trip is supposed to be a maudlin, romantic thing. Sensing his reluctance, Brooke uses their earlier mission to distract him.

B: "How about that cake?"

Getting the nod from Brandon, she takes the cake out of the fridge, and cuts a couple of slices. She hands a plate and a fork to Brandon just as Lucas returns.

L: "Haley said Jamie's back home. Apparently he got in a fight but he's not saying with whom."

B: "That's not like Jamie. Is he ok?"

L: "It's nothing a pack of ice and some sleep won't cure. He'll just wake up with a nasty bruise on his chin."

As Lucas takes a seat next to Brandon, Brooke cuts another slice of cake and slides the plate over to him. She watches, with furrowed eyebrows, as father and son simply stare at their respective plates with forks at hand. Brandon feels the tension deep in his bones. He would even if he were deaf, mute, and blind. He's about to be scolded for the third time for jumping to conclusions without asking for the facts. First JJ chewed him out, then Jamie. Now, it's Lucas's turn. He knows that there's only one preemptive strike against being reprimanded.

Br: "Listen man, about earlier…"

L: "It's ok. Let's just eat some cake. For now."

Glad and surprised that Lucas let him off the hook, even if it's temporarily, he goes for his first bite of birthday cake. And, his face makes it clear how much he savors it.

B: "Huh? What did I tell you? Chocolate heaven. Is your grandmother a genius or what?"

Br: "This is so good. I'm going to need another slice."

L: "Then it's a good thing we still have the whole cake to ourselves. So, who won this video game of yours?"

Br: "The whole thing was null and void due to excessive cheating."

B: "Tall tales I say! Pure unadulterated fabrication fit for a loser. Anyone else want a drink?"

L: "I'll take another beer."

B: "Brandon? You want to take a break from spreading false and malicious rumors and have some Dew?"

Br: "Sure, but you really should look up rumor in a dictionary."

As Brooke leaves to grab the drink orders, Lucas motions with his head towards the six large trash bags piled up by the front door and reminds Brandon it's his turn to take the trash out. Swearing that Lucas fixed the schedule that way, Brandon claims that those bags would fill his quota for the week. Brooke comes back laughing and offers to help. But, only if he wins the next round of Halo. That's how Brandon Walker's birthday comes to an end. Sitting around the kitchen counter, eating delicious cake, and getting teased by his parents. It seems so normal. Ordinary, really. As if the earlier events of the day or even the past seventeen years never happened. Like the past doesn't matter, the future is too far to worry about, and the present only exists in that one instant. They take a rare break from chasing after time. Put down their weapons and rest for a brief moment. In fact, it's the exact kind of moment that makes the passing hours and minutes bearable.

_"...I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire...I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it. Because no battle is ever won... They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools."  
~William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury, 1929_


	18. A Single Soul in Two Bodies: Part One

**Author's Note: **Happy New Year! I hope 2011 brings much happiness, health, and adventure to you all. A quick note about the story. Some of you are PM'ing me to tell me you're impatiently waiting for the wedding chapters. May I ask you hang in there just a little bit longer? I'd like our BLB family to get a tad bit closer before the wedding happens. The trip will most likely begin in two chapters after the one you're about to read. And, as for the recent backlash against JJ, I'm so glad. It's no fun when you like all the characters. Not to mention, It tells me you've got Brandon's back. He's the root for character in this story after all. Give JJ some time, she'll get in your good graces soon enough. One last thing, if you're not a fan of profanity, I apologize in advance for some parts of this chapter. When you read, I hope you'll see the character just wouldn't have worked without it.

"_What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies."  
~Aristotle_

How many real friends do we get in one lifetime? Not allies, colleagues or acquaintances. Not those who consider _how are you _to be a rhetorical question. But, those who actually care enough to wait for our answer. The kind to be silent with in moments of anguish and stay with us in our hour of mourning. Someone who tolerates our faults without needing an explanation and stands by us despite our worst mistakes. A friend to face with us the reality of our own helplessness when there is no cure, no remedy, no fix. A second body to carry our soul. Almost seven billion people in this world, maybe millions in our city, thousands on our street, hundreds come in and out of our lives…but we can count on the fingers of one hand the number of true friends we have. Sometimes, it's only a matter of timing and chance…the rest are just friends waiting to be discovered. And, sometimes, that one friend, old or new, is enough to neutralize countless enemies and give us comfort in our time of need.

It's not one big thing that makes Brandon Walker and Skylar Madsen true friends. It's the myriad of little things that most of us would call details. The holding of a hand when one senses the other needs strength. The hour they sit together in silence or the whole day that passes by in frivolous chatter. Sometimes, it's their unreserved frankness when others may find it easier or more caring to resort to a lie. The harsh thoughts and blunt words expressed free of censorship. And, sometimes, it's their unconditional offer of understanding and safety. The privilege earned by years of leaning on each other that voids his fears and erases her inhibitions. His long-ago oath to always protect her. Her vow in-return to never leave him alone. So, if Skylar is in trouble, Brandon doesn't have to ask how to help. He just does.

When Brandon retreated to his room last night, he found Skylar sitting on his bed waiting for him. He expected it. It's not the first time one of them sneaked into the other's bedroom just so they don't have to feel lonely after a particularly bad day or if they're expecting an unusually tough morning. It won't be the last either. There's a perfectly good second bed in his room, but she's asleep snuggled up to him with her head resting on his chest. He's been awake for almost an hour staring up at the ceiling, so when he feels her shifting in bed, he's glad that the wait for her to wake up is over.

Skylar: "What time is it?"

Brandon: "Almost eleven."

She quickly sits up, pushes the comforter off herself, and jumps out of bed.

S: "Damn it. I'm sorry. I meant to sneak out before they woke up. Are you going to get in trouble? They probably have a rule against girls in your room."

Br: "Wait, there's a girl in my room? Where?"

Jumping back on his bed, she hits his shoulder with all her might.

S: "Jerk!"

Br: "Ouch! Ok, Miss Universe. What they don't know can't hurt us. Besides, I think Brooke likes you too much to punish us."

She lies back down on the bed next to him, and, this time, their shoulders are touching and they are both looking at the ceiling.

S: "She likes me? Did she say something? How do you know?"

Br: "She said I could invite you to the wedding."

Surprised, she turns to look at him, and bending her elbow, props herself up on her hand.

S: "What wedding?"

Br: "I haven't told you? Brooke and Lucas are getting married."

She laughs at the ridicule on his face and the scoff in his tone.

Br: "What?"

S: "It's just funny how much you and Jamie are alike when it comes to your parents. He lost it last night over one hug, and look at you now. You're not going to start kicking and punching walls, are you?"

Br: "Are you staying for the wedding or what?"

S: "Are you going to quit being so stubborn or what?"

Br: "Stubborn? How am I stubborn?"

S: "Why can't you be happy for them?"

Br: "Because it's all a lie. This isn't a real marriage. A real family. We're not in an O. Henry novel, Sky. There is no twist ending here. I've got 20 days until I can leave. If, in the meantime, they want to put on an elaborate show for the judge, I will sit back and watch. But, I don't have to like it."

S: "How do you know what's in their hearts? Maybe this is exactly what they want. I don't see a gun to their heads. And, let's assume you're right. They're doing this to keep you. Gosh, how terrible that they're so willing and ready to change their whole lives just so they can have you! Must be tough to be so wanted. Are you telling me you don't feel just a little bit happy?"

Br: "I'll make you a deal…I'll give you a little happy for some honesty."

S: "Whatever might you be talking about?"

B: "Talk to me, Red. You don't go to church and I'm a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy."

She knows exactly what he's asking her, of course. She remembers her promise to tell him about the bruise first thing in the morning. So, she lies back down on the bed nervously. The nerves aren't for her sake. The worry is for him. She understands Brandon well enough to know that the moment she tells the truth, there will be no stopping him. What happens to her, good or bad, happens to him. That's how two bodies share one soul.

S: "Promise me you won't do something stupid."

He grimaces as he turns to look at her.

Br: "Am I going to want to do something stupid?"

S: "Just promise me."

It's his turn to jump out of bed in anger. Mostly at himself for not figuring out what happened sooner. Or not stopping it before it ever happened. He quickly starts putting his clothes on.

Br: "It was him, wasn't it? Of course. How stupid can I be? It was that punk you call a boyfriend!"

S: "You promised."

He grabs his shoes off the floor and sits on the edge of his bed to put them on. She crawls to his side of the bed and hangs onto his arm to stop him from leaving.

Br: "No, I didn't."

S: "Look, he didn't mean to grab me so hard. Ok? He just got mad. He apologized right away."

He freezes for a moment and turns to face her. When he finally gathers enough courage to ask what's on his mind, his voice is very soft and warm.

Br: "Sky, has he hurt you before?"

S: "No. I swear. He's never done anything like this before."

Br: "Would you tell me if he had?"

S: "When have I ever been able to keep anything from you?"

Both a little calmer than before, they sit side by side on the edge of the bed.

S: "He lost his temper, Brandon. I'm not completely blameless."

Br: "Don't say that. This isn't your fault. Nothing you could have ever done would justify this. Nothing. Do you understand that?"

Wiping a tear off her right cheek, she nods her head in agreement.

Br: "It's over, Sky. You don't ever see him again."

S: "I already broke up with him. But…"

Br: "But what?"

S: "The drugs I took from him that time I got arrested…you know, the reason I couldn't come to court with you that day? The cops have his stash, so he says I owe him money."

Br: "Jesus. How much?"

S: "$1,500."

Br: "Red!"

He stands up and with one hand rubbing the back of his neck, paces back and forth between the window and his bedroom door.

S: "It's all under control. I already gave him $300. I'll get the rest together somehow. I don't want you to worry about this. I'm taking care of it."

After a few seconds of silence, he stops before her.

Br: "No, _I _will take care of it. All you're doing is staying right here until I can figure this out. Ok?"

S: "No, uh-uh. You can't get in the middle of this, Brandon. You have a brand new life here. Away from this mess. I can't let you jeopardize it. No way."

Kneeling down by the bed, he takes her hands in his and looks directly into her eyes.

Br: "Listen to me. I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you. You will stay away from Vik until I deal with this. That's how it's going to be. Tell me you get that."

S: "What are you going to do?"

He slowly stands up and gently pulls her into a tight hug.

Br: "Fix it. I'll fix everything."

While caught up in their own drama upstairs, Brandon and Skylar are unaware that, downstairs, Brooke is giving a new definition to a lazy Sunday. Coming down to look for Brooke and Lucas, Brandon finds all three of Brooke's assistants and a couple of models in the living room. With raised eyebrows and a tilted head, the teenage boy in him can't help but stare at the barely-clothed models for a second or two before he shakes his head. Trying carefully not to trip over what seems like a million rolls of fabric that have basically taken over the entire house, he makes his way down the hallway. He first sees Lucas holding a cup of coffee, standing at the threshold silently smiling at something inside the study. When Lucas notices him, he brings his index finger to his lips motioning for his son to stay quiet. Turning to follow his gaze into the study, Brandon sees Brooke slowly circling a model standing in the middle of the room. She's so completely focused on a sketch in her hand that she's oblivious to not only their presence, but also the rest of the world. It's inexplicably captivating for such a simple scene. So, Brandon joins Lucas in watching her work for a moment. She wraps the measuring tape around her neck, puts a box of needles under her arm, and kneels down by the model wearing her latest creation. As Brandon leans against the doorframe, one of her assistants walks by him with a pen and a pad in hand ready to take notes.

Brooke: "Ok, the hemline needs to be two and a half inches shorter. Just below the knee."

PA No1: "Got it."

She stands up, closes her eyes, and runs her fingers down the side of the skirt to feel the fabric.

B: "I need to feel the dress in silk too. Red. Catalogue 3B. The new Chinese supplier. Rachel knows exactly which fabric I need. Run your final list by her."

PA No1: "Silk, red, 3B. Ms. Gatina for final run through. Check."

As she measures how low the back of the dress is cut, she gets clearly annoyed.

B: "God, I swear, they don't even look at my sketches before making the samples. We're going for Governor's Ball chic, not 80's night at the local roller rink. The back needs to be higher by four inches."

PA No1: "Back pulled up four inches."

B: "That's it for this one. Can you send in Julie with the white suit please? Thanks."

As the model and the assistant leave the room, Brooke finally notices Brandon and Lucas watching her.

B: "Hey. How long have you two been standing there?"

L: "Long enough to know not to wear my backless top if the governor calls."

B: "Or your ass-less leather chaps."

L: "The one you borrowed? Yeah, you never gave them back."

Br: "Yuck. I did not need that image. And, my day's ruined. Can you two try to restrain the ick factor until the kid leaves the room? I'm embarrassed enough for a lifetime."

B: "I don't know."

She turns to look at Lucas and motions with her head at the basketball print flannel pajama bottoms he's wearing. As Brandon shakes his head, Lucas looks down.

L: "What? They happen to be extremely comfortable."

B: "Just a little past time for those to join the chaps in retirement."

Br: "Ok, I'm officially changing the topic before I kill myself."

B: "Right, ok. Uhm…I'm sorry about the chaos down here. I've been neglecting work this week with the move and the party, so Rachel, not so kindly, reminded me I need to play catch up. And since we don't have an office yet, I told everyone to come here. All this should be out before dinnertime. I promise I'll give you more of an advance notice next time."

Br: "Whatever. I don't care about that. I'm out anyway. But, before I go…about that allowance…"

L: "Oh yeah. You get $50 today. Let me get my wallet."

B: "Lucas, it's fine. My purse is here. You'll get it next time."

Brandon watches as Brooke grabs her wallet out of her purse and takes out several bills, $50 of which she hands over to him. Before she can say anything, her assistant calls for her. So, she excuses herself leaving Lucas and Brandon behind alone.

L: "Do you need a ride anywhere? If you wait a few minutes, I'll go change and drive you."

Br: "No, I'm fine."

L: "Ok. Just be back by eight for dinner."

As he walks down the hall back into their bedroom, he has some final words of warning for Brandon.

L: "Try to walk around these roll things. I swear the fabric attacks you if you get too close."

When Lucas is finally behind a closed door, Brandon returns his gaze back inside the study. To Brooke's purse on the desk. To the half open wallet on top of the purse. Most of the time, mistakes don't announce their arrival. Wrong decisions are not obvious before it's too late. But, there are those rare moments, those seconds before we take a certain action, when we know we are about to make a bad call, break a heart, betray fragile trust. Yes, the realization comes, but so does the justification. We act, nonetheless. We do so in the name of whatever fuels us at that moment…survival, love, family, honor. When Brandon reaches for Brooke's wallet, he does so in the name of friendship.

But, before he can steal the cash, something unexpected knocks the wind out of his sails. Actually, not something. Someone. More specifically, the two-dimensional six-year-old version of himself, smiling wide with innocent eyes. Brandon remembers that picture very well. It was taken for his school ID card. He was so excited to start first grade that he couldn't stop smiling that whole day. His dad used to carry a copy just like that one in his wallet, too. When he hears Brooke's voice getting closer, he doesn't have enough time to register the meaning of his discovery. He quickly takes the cash and the picture and shoves them both in the inside pocket of his jacket. Throwing the wallet back in the purse, he speeds out the study, past Brooke in the hallway, and out the door. And, he doesn't stop running until he's out the front gate and safely out of sight from the crowd in the house. Bending over, he finds himself desperately attempting to catch his breath. It's not the run that's shrinking his lungs. No, Brandon is in great shape, physically. Emotionally is a whole different story. He thinks this must be how sudden shock leads to hyperventilation, which turns into an anxiety attack. In a matter of milliseconds. Damn his luck, Brandon Walker is not falling victim to a freaking panic attack. So, he slaps his own face, takes a deep breath and starts counting down from ten. As he sits down on the pavement, it feels more like he's about to lie down on Freud's sofa. He takes the picture from inside the pocket and stares at it. So many questions roll around in his head…what, who, how, when, why? Yet, the only coherent answer he can come up with is that he doesn't have time to focus on how Brooke got the picture right now. He needs to help a friend, which means that everything else has to wait. So, he puts the picture back inside his jacket, gets up, and starts walking down the street on a fundraising mission. After all, it's a terrible time for a breakdown.

Not long after Brandon leaves, Skylar also takes off on a mission of her own. A few wrong calls and a couple of bus rides later, she finally finds what she's looking for at River Court. Jamie Scott is alone playing basketball. Maybe it's the headphones in his ears or the game itself, or maybe it's the surprisingly peaceful environment of a simple cement court, but he seems a million miles away. In a world of his own really. So, Skylar quietly walks around the court, sits on the wooden picnic table on the side, and watches him shoot for a minute or two. When a particularly impressive shot falls through the hoop, she can't help but jump to her feet and start whistling and applauding. The noise startles Jamie, so he turns around and takes the headphones out.

Jamie: "It's getting a little creepy how you find me every time. You could have a bright future as a bounty hunter or a private detective."

Skylar: "I wish I could take credit for this one, but your mom told me where you were."

Grabbing the rolling ball, Jamie walks towards the bench and stands before her.

J: "You went to my house?"

S: "Yes. Brooke told me where you live. Is that ok? I wanted to see how you were after last night."

Jamie rubs his chin and shrugs his shoulders.

J: "Cousin really knows how to hit. Maybe I should thank him. I hear chicks dig scars."

S: "Who are these chicks you speak of? And, that's just some black and blue, no scar I'm afraid."

J: "Damn, I should have known he couldn't get the job done."

S: "Look, about Brandon…he can be impulsive sometimes. You shouldn't take it personally. Despite the misguided attempt, he was just trying to protect me."

J: "I get it. It's pretty clear actually. He was jealous."

S: "Brandon? Jealous of what? You and I?"

Regretting what his comment implies, Jamie tries to clarify.

J: "I'm not saying there's anything to be jealous of. But, he saw you half naked in my arms, and that punch was just him marking his territory. I get it."

S: "No, you don't. Brandon's not jealous. We're not together like that. In fact, that's just gross. He's like a protective big brother."

J: "Well, he was acting more like a green-eyed boyfriend. But, whatever."

S: "No, that's not even close."

J: "If you say so."

S: "Listen. I've known Brandon for years. We have always looked out for each other. What we have goes beyond the physical. He's the only one who will tell me things I don't want to tell myself. The only one who knows everything about me and accepts me just as I am. To the rest of the world, I can wear a million different faces. Be whoever they need me to be. But, to Brandon, I don't need to be anyone but myself. Do you know how rare and comforting that is, Jamie? So, no, it's not romantic, it's something much better. He's my friend. My first and only friend."

J: "Now you're hurting my feelings. Your only friend?"

S: "Are you my friend, Jamie?"

He wants to say _yes_. Maybe not the kind of friend he just heard her describe Brandon as. Not yet. They only met yesterday. But, yes. Jamie Scott wants to get to know Skylar Madsen. And, not just one of those faces she puts on for others. The real person underneath it all. But unfortunately, he doesn't get a chance to reply when they're interrupted by a tall, built guy wearing a black wife-beater with arms covered in tattoos. Jamie notices how Skylar freezes as the guy gets closer.

Vik: "Now look at that. The whore of Babylon found herself a new groupie. Already trappin' your new prey, baby? Let me answer that question for you, bonehead. No, she's not your fucking friend. The slut's about to play you like she played me."

Slowly getting up from her seat, Skylar is barely audible.

S: "Vik. What…why are you here?"

V: "Hi honey, missed me?"

He takes one final step forward closing the gap between them. When he reaches to run a finger down her cheek, she winces and jumps back. To Jamie, it's a clear mix of fear and disgust. So, he extends his arm pulling Skylar back in a kind of shelter behind him.

J: "Back up, man. Sky, you know this guy?"

V: "Know me? That's hilarious, asshole. Let's see. I'm her fucking boyfriend! Who the hell are you?"

Jamie looks back at a clearly petrified and recoiled Skylar.

J: "I think you should go. She clearly doesn't want you here."

Stepping up even closer, Vik gets in Jamie's face as he issues his threats.

V: "And I think you should fuck off. Who do you think wins this stare game? My money's not on your punk ass."

J: "I'm not looking for trouble."

Sky jumps in between them and separates the two men with her hands. She turns to face Vik with a hint of sudden courage.

S: "How did you find me?"

V: "You're easy to track down, sweetheart. Wherever that wanker is I find you. Every damn time."

When a visibly upset and mad Skylar shoves Vik hard in the chest, Jamie knows the newfound bravery comes from this innate need to protect her friends. This is what she must have meant when she talked about Brandon and her looking out for each other.

S: "What did you do to him? Tell me! What did you do to Brandon?"

He grabs her wrist in mid-air and pushes her arm back with such force that she retracts in pain.

V: "Your precious loverboy is just fine. For now."

J: "You need to go before I call the cops. Now!"

Jamie steps in between the two of them to warn him off her. But, all it does is make him laugh and rile him up even more.

V: "You're just itchin' for a fight, aren't ya rich boy? Or is the little doggie just gonna bark all day?"

J: "I'm not going to fight you."

V: "Yeah? I was kinda hoping you'd bite, but looks like someone already gave you shiner."

S: "What do you want Vik?

V: "You're real slow bitch, aren't ya? I want my money. Tell me you have it and I'm gone."

S: "I don't have it. But, I will. I need a few days, ok?"

Confused, Jamie turns to face Skylar.

J: "You owe him money? How much? For what?"

V: "Oh, this is just so damn beautiful, I'm about to cry. You are in for a treat, numbnut. Why don't I tell you all about your pretty new girlfriend here?"

S: "Vik, just go. I will get you the money."

Her pleading voice and terrified face only amuse him.

V: "Nah. This is too much fun. I live for shattering dreams of pricks like him. Sky baby here is in for $1,200. You see the bitch stole from me and the genius she is, she got arrested with my stash. Oh, this is too fucking good! You actually look like you had no idea your girl was a druggie felon. Wait till withdrawal hits you, honey. You'll be back banging on my door."

Stunned, Jamie stares at Skylar waiting for her to deny the obvious lie he just heard. But, all Skylar can do is look down in defeat.

V: "I'll be back here at 7pm. You better have my money. You don't wanna know what happens if you don't show up."

Skylar and Jamie both watch Vik walk away, get on his motorcycle and ride away. When Skylar gathers enough strength to face Jamie, she sees a confounded and shocked look on his face.

S: "Jamie."

She reaches a hand to touch his arm, but he takes a step back yanking it away from her.

J: "No! Don't touch me! What the hell was that?"

S: "I'm sorry. Jamie, I never meant for you to see or hear any of that. Please, let me explain."

J: "How? You are such a hypocrite! You sat there at the beach waxing poetic about how hard it was with your mother. And, you're a junkie yourself! What kind of mind games are you playing? What was that last night? A joke?"

S: "I never claimed to be a beacon of morality, ok? Please, let me…"

J: "I bet you laughed so hard behind my back. This poor sucker bought all your stories."

S: "They weren't stories. Everything I told you was true. Last night was real."

J: "I don't need this. I sure as hell don't need you. Stay away from me."

As a furious Jamie tears away from the court, he leaves a brokenhearted Skylar behind. She looks down and wipes a few tears off her cheek. And, when she looks up, she knows she has her answer.

S: "I guess we're not friends after all."

Sometimes, we think we have found a new friend fit to make an old one out of. But, we find out along the way, they never meant to stick around. That they always intended to walk out of our lives without ever reaching their potential. Maybe it's our fault or theirs. Maybe, it's nobody's. It's disappointing, really. To take a chance, to open up, to let someone in. And, to have them walk away leaving us behind in the dust. That's why despite the billions of people inhabiting earth, among the hundreds we meet in our lifetime, true friends are few and far in between.

Brooke Davis and Rachel Gatina are two such true friends. It's not like they don't disagree, raise their voices or say hurtful things. These two know how to fight dirty. But, they are also both undeniably committed to keeping their friendship in constant repair. And, not just their friendship; they heal each other. Time and again, one gathers the pieces of the other and hands them back in exactly the right order. In an insane world, they give one another an invaluable moment of sanity. Exactly when it's most needed. So, when one senses a potential threat to the other looming on the horizon, she does her best to squash it. That is exactly what Rachel has in mind when she arrives at the beach house later that afternoon. Since Lucas has left a couple of hours ago to meet with Nathan, the house has completely transformed into the Clothes Over Bros command center. Rachel follows the hustle and bustle to the study and finds Brooke sitting on the floor among piles of sketches and rolls of laid out fabric. She can't help but smile as she watches Brooke work for a moment.

Rachel: "I'm having a déjà vu. Fifteen years ago, New York City. I'm trying to find you under piles of half finished sample dresses on the floor of our tiny apartment in the Village."

Brooke: "What can I say? Some things never change."

R: "Hey, boss? When I said work, I didn't mean crank out the whole spring collection in one day."

B: "I was inspired."

R: "Speaking of the devil, where is everyone's favorite offspring? It's time we officially meet."

B: "Can't you give him a year or two to enjoy what's left of his childhood?"

R: "Just for that, I'm taking him out tonight and getting him so wasted he won't remember his own name tomorrow."

B: "Good luck with that. Something tells me he'll drink seven Rachels under the table."

With a hand over her heart, Brooke tilts her head and smiles.

B: "I'm so proud."

R: "Is the prodigal son at home or what?"

B: "Not sure if he's back yet. I've been cooped up here all day, but check his room. What's with the urgency anyway?"

When Brooke looks up from her sketches, she sees that Rachel's already left to look for Brandon. She wonders why her friend is in such a hurry, but ignores it. She knows full well there is no acting weird when it comes to Rachel. So, she just shrugs and shouts after her.

B: "Come back after you're done corrupting my kid. We need to go over the final changes."

As Rachel's about to go up the stairs, she hears someone unlocking the front door. When Brandon enters, she quickly walks up to him. Grabbing him by the collar of his leather jacket, she pulls the surprised teenager into the hallway.

R: "You're coming with me."

Br: "What? Who the hell are you?"

Without looking back, Rachel keeps walking further into the hallway and practically drags a resistant Brandon behind her.

R: "Your best friend and worst nightmare. But call me Rachel. Now, shut up and follow me."

As they pass by the study, Rachel makes sure they're extra carefully not to be caught by Brooke, who's too busy to notice them anyway. She pulls Brandon into Brooke and Lucas's bedroom and closes the door behind them. She leans her back against the door, crosses her arms over her chest, and stares back at a glaring Brandon.

Br: "Did you say your name was Rachel? I might be wrong about this, but I thought Brooke said you were her friend. Not some psychopathic kidnapper! What the hell do you want?"

Remaining silent, she walks a few steps closer to him and reaches inside her pursue. When she extends her hand out to him, what lies on her palm is enough to freeze Brandon.

R: "I believe you _misplaced _this. I _found_ it for you. Come on, take it."

It's the Tag Heuer watch Brooke gave him for his birthday. The one he pawned earlier that afternoon for cash to give to Skylar. Those few bills all of a sudden start a wildfire in the front pocket of his jeans. His hand hesitantly reaches out and takes the watch from her.

R: "You owe me $750 by the way."

Br: "What? I got only $500 for that thing an hour ago!"

R: "Do you know how a pawnshop works? They profit over the stupidity of people like you and I."

Br: "How did you even buy it? The guy said he wouldn't sell it for a month."

R: "Here's your cynical life lesson number one, young Walker. For the right price, almost everything is for sale."

Br: "How did you know I was there? Are you following me?"

R: "I hate to break it to you kid, but I have better things to do than shadow you all day. I happened to be driving by when I saw you come out of the shop."

Br: "I was going to go back. I always meant to…"

R: "Let me guess, you meant to buy it back, right? You're sorry? You'll never do it again? Save the tears. I was there when your mother bought that watch for you. You should have seen how excited she was. It's a gift, Brandon. There was no way I'd let you pawn it. Do you know what it would do to her if she found out you sold it? And for what?"

Br: "Oh, come the fuck down from your high horse, will you? You've never done anything wrong for a good cause? A friend needed my help. What was I supposed to do? Rob a bank?"

R: "Is it Skylar? Is she ok? Does it have anything to do with that bruise on her shoulder?"

Br: "How do you know about that? You know what? I don't care. Mind your own business and stay out of ours!"

Brandon goes for the door, but determined to stand her ground, Rachel blocks his path.

R: "This _is_ my business."

Br: "How do you figure that?"

R: "I love Brooke. She's not just a friend, she's my sister. Which makes you family, like it or not. And, you may not believe this, but I care about Skylar, too. I want to help."

Laughing out loud, Brandon walks towards the window. When he hastily turns back and throws his arms up in the air, he reveals that the laughter has nothing to do with being amused.

Br: "Everybody wants to help. Not one beep in sixteen fucking years, and all of a sudden I have family coming out of my nose! You're all smothering me with the _I care_'s. I can't get rid of you people. And, you…I don't get this little act you're putting on. What is it really about? Your precious cash? You'll get your money back. Just ask your best friend. It's not like she'll miss the money. She's practically swimming in it. With all the free time she got by kicking me to the curb, she did quite well for herself."

R: "You ungrateful little…"

It takes all Rachel's got not to finish that sentence. She stomps her foot once in anger and her face gets so red that Brandon thinks for a second that there's actual steam coming out of her ears. Then, her whole expression changes. Brandon watches as she runs into Brooke's walk-in closet and starts rummaging through her clothes. She kneels down to look at the bottom of the closet behind the clothes. It looks to Brandon like she's looking for a safe or some sort of a hiding place.

Br: "Have you gone completely bonkers?"

Still quiet, Rachel sprints into the bathroom to check all the cabinets. When her search turns up nothing, she sighs and returns to the bedroom. As if an imaginary light bulb goes off in her head, she rushes to the bed, pulls the comforter off and leans down to look under the bed.

R: "Oh, Davis! Have I thought you nothing?"

Br: "What the hell are you doing?"

Sliding a large box out from under the bed, she grabs it and lifts it up onto the bed.

R: "I'm showing you how clueless you are."

Br: "What are you talking about?"

R: "You think Brooke gave you up for her career? So she can get rich? Live the high life? You can't be more wrong. The job…it's always been a distraction. Nothing else. A distraction from you. From thinking about you. From dreaming about you. From crying over you. Most of her money is tied up in a trust fund for you. You!"

As a stunned and speechless Brandon stares at her, she turns her attention towards the box she just unearthed. She takes the lid off and runs her hand over its contents.

R: "Here we go. _This_ is how Brooke spent the last sixteen years."

Brandon gets closer and leans down to look inside the box.

Br: "What is all this?"

The box is filled with notebooks of all sizes and colors. Some look very old and worn out. Others are relatively new. Rachel grabs one and holds it close to her chest.

R: "These are Brooke's journals. All written to you. The only thing she actually enjoyed…no, scratch that, looked forward to doing was talking to you. You never talked back, of course. But, that didn't stop her. Not once in sixteen years. She wrote to you about her empty days and sleepless nights. How much she missed you, ached for you, loved you. How she saw and heard you in every child on the streets. You don't deserve to know any of this but you pissed me off just now so I couldn't help myself."

Slowly calming down, she takes a deep breath and puts the journal back in the box. Placing the lid back on it, she puts the box back under the bed. As she tries to figure out what to say next, she sees Brandon slowly make his way to the bed and carefully sit down. He's shocked and baffled. Yes. For the second time today. First the picture, now the journals. But, this sudden need for physical support is much simpler than that. The more Rachel talks the weaker his knees get until he literally can't feel his legs anymore. He honestly doesn't know what to think. He isn't even sure he knows how to think at the moment. It's a good thing Rachel doesn't expect him to say anything.

R: "Brooke doesn't know that I know about these journals. So, this has to stay between us. Our little secret."

Br: "We have secrets now?

R: "Yes, smartass. One secret. Deal with it. She'll show them to you herself when she's ready. When you're ready."

As Brandon nods his head sealing their pact of secrecy, Rachel sits down next to him on the bed.

R: "People make mistakes, Brandon. If we're lucky, they're easy enough to fix. You know this. Because you made one today. But, sometimes, we're not so lucky. And, we make really big mistakes. That's just who we are. Flawed. A little broken. Every single one of us. Your mother loves you. And, if you can forgive her, you'll see how easy it is to love her back. Don't do it for me or for her. Do it for yourself. I know what it's like to have Brooke in your life, so believe me when I tell you, my life is a million times better because of it."

Without waiting for a response, Rachel gets up and heads for the door, but turns around one last time.

R: "I am your friend, whether you want me to be or not. And, if you think I can help with whatever's going on with Skylar, I'm here. I'd like to be her friend, too. If you let me."

As Rachel leaves closing the door behind her, Brandon remains motionless sitting alone on the bed. It's an utterly discombobulating feeling to start questioning what we've spent so long believing in. The high walls we've built to protect ourselves seem meaningless. Some even begin to crumble down. And, we find ourselves standing alone, vulnerable, second-guessing everything we thought we knew. At such a moment, a box full of answers right under our feet is simply too tempting to pass up. So, Brandon reaches down and slides the box out. He opens the lid just enough for his hand to glide in and grab one of Brooke's journals. He quickly shoves it inside his jacket and pushes the box back under the bed. He scurries out of the room, down the hallway and up the stairs. He keeps going until he gets to his room, locks his door, and sits on the floor leaning against his bedframe. With trembling hands and barely breathing, he takes out the journal from inside his jacket and opens it to the first entry dated almost ten years ago.

_My dearest son,  
Today is a special day, so I'm starting a brand new diary in its honor. I know it's silly, but you see, your mom has little reason to be sentimental these days. So, let's just give her this one, shall we? Why today you ask? I found out something today and for the first time in almost six years, I feel hopeful. And scared. Total disclosure? I'm out of my mind terrified, baby. Is that even possible to feel so much hope and fear at the same time? Today, I found out where you are. It's a few words on a piece of paper, an address, a street, four walls, your home. The result of two years of searching. I'm holding the paper in my hand right now and I can't decide what to do with it. I wish you could tell me what I should do. Do you want to see me? Would you like to meet me? Know me? Or do you just want me to let you be? Every fiber in my being screams for me to run out that door, get on a plane and rush to take you in my arms. Tell you how much I've missed you. How much I love you. And, I do. I love you with all my heart. And, I miss you every single second of every single day. But, do I have the right? I let you go once. To a better life. What if I mess it up for you by showing up? You have to know that is the last thing I want to do. I know that for your sake, I have to stay away. But, I don't think I can resist much longer. Knowing exactly where you are, but keeping my distance…that's torture. I guess that's exactly what I deserve. Someday we'll meet. Maybe soon, maybe not. But, someday we'll meet. And I want you to know that it will be the best day of my life.  
Sweet dreams my son.  
I love you,  
Mom _

"_A good friend is a connection to life - a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world."  
~Lois Wyse, 20__th__ century American author_


	19. A Single Soul in Two Bodies: Part Two

**Author's Note: ** Some of you who have reviewed the story or pm'd me have your accounts turned off for incoming messages. Please don't think I've been ignoring your messages. If you'd like me to respond, please adjust your account settings. Thanks, Demi.

"_Thus nature has no love for solitude, and always leans, as it were, on some support; and the sweetest support is found in the most intimate friendship."  
~Marcus Tullius __Cicero, Roman philosopher_

Brandon Walker was only four years old when he found out he was different than his friends. In fact, that moment is one of his earliest memories. He had spent the whole day at his best friend's house where a crying newborn had gotten all the attention. So, when he was finally alone in the car with his mother, he asked, innocently, where babies came from. He can't quite recall the exact conversation, but he can still hear the tires screeching and feel the car skidding to a halt. With a blanched face, his mother stammered through some speech about babies growing inside their mothers' tummies. He does remember very well how the speech ended. _You're special, baby. You didn't grow in mommy's tummy. You grew inside your birth mother who loved you very much. She couldn't take care of you herself and she knew how much mommy and daddy wanted you. We are so lucky, because now, you are ours._

Before Brandon could question what or who a birth mother was, he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug and distracted by promises of chocolate ice cream and cotton candy. That same evening, he heard his parents arguing in the kitchen. His mother kept repeating something like how she would never lie to her son and his father was enraged about not being present when something that Brandon surmised to be big had happened. When he caught a glance of his father storming off in a huff, he ran up the stairs and hid under the covers in his bed. A few minutes later, his dad came to tuck him in. _You know how much I love you, right? That you're my son no matter what?_ After the fight he witnessed that night, Brandon never asked about babies, tummies or birth mothers. Because, he thought that's the way his parents wanted it.

So, when two years later, his parents sat him down to talk about how he was adopted, he didn't see it coming. His dad, who usually worked until dinnertime, was home to greet him when the school bus dropped him off that afternoon. He thought the pleasant surprise was in honor of the end of his first week at school. In hindsight, it should have told him to expect an ambush. When his tense father asked him to sit at the kitchen table and his anxious mother put a plate of cookies and a glass of milk in front of him, Brandon started wondering if they had done something he should ground them for. Instead, what came next was a reminder of the conversation from two years ago and a real definition of what a birth mother was. _Your mom and I both love you very much and we think you are old enough to know everything. Honey, being adopted doesn't change the fact that you are our son in every way that counts. Brandon, talk to us. You must have questions. _He did. A million questions. But, not one he dared to ask. Before him sat two people who looked more terrified than he felt. Two people he loved dearly. And, if asking even one of those questions would cause a fraction of the argument he witnessed the first time the topic came up, he would rather jump off the tallest building around than utter one word. Questions would have to wait. And, frankly, they still do. This must be how life conditions our behavior: young Brandon's first insight into the human psyche. So, he smiled, got up from his chair, grabbed a cookie, and kissed his parents on the cheek. Picking his backpack off the floor, he told them he had homework before he hurried upstairs to his room. That's how the six-year-old Brandon Walker found out he was adopted.

Now, sitting on the cold mahogany floor leaning against his bedframe, Brandon can't help but regress to that moment of ambush once again. Brooke's diary rests open on his lap and his right hand clings to the picture he found in her wallet. _I love you with all my heart. And, I miss you every single second of every single day._ Her words feel so alive that they almost jump off the page and tug relentlessly at his perturbed heart and mind. Not just his. They're going after the innocent and naïve version of himself in the picture. So, he quickly shoves the picture back in his pocket, shuts the diary closed, and drops it on the floor. In a way, he's trying to protect that happy little boy. Keep him oblivious just a little bit longer to the turmoil about to hit. It's complete chaos inside him. Every feeling all jumbled up in free fall with no order in sight. Pure madness, really. So, he reaches for his phone and calls the one person who keeps him lucid amidst such lunacy, Skylar. When he follows the sound of the ring, he sees that she must have left her phone behind in his room before she left to God knows where. Which reminds him…_where is Skylar? _Clenching his jaw tight, he throws the cellphone onto the bed. Weren't his instructions to stay put clear enough? He walks over to the open window, lights a cigarette and inhales the smoke deep into his lungs. He closes his eyes and drops his head trying to clear his mind. But, Brooke's words relentlessly follow him everywhere. _Someday we'll meet. And I want you to know that it will be the best day of my life._ When he hears a knock on his door, he snaps his head up, puts the cigarette out, and flicks it out the window.

Brandon: "Yeah?"

Skylar: "Hey, it's me. Your door is locked."

He runs to the door, unlocks it and pulls her inside.

Br: "Where the hell have you been?"

S: "Please don't be mad. I was only gone maybe an hour. I had to see someone."

As he walks back inside, she closes the door behind her. She can't see him roll his eyes, but she can clearly hear the objection in his voice.

Br: "Let me guess. Jamie."

S: "Doesn't matter. Turns out it was a bad idea. I won't be seeing him again."

He stops walking and turns around to face her angrily.

Br: "What the hell did he do now?"

S: "Nothing, he didn't do anything. Vik showed up."

She watches as a fuming Brandon bangs his clenched fist on the wall.

Br: "Damn it! This is exactly why I asked you to stay here."

He takes a second to calm down, slowly walks up to her, and grabs her gently by the shoulders.

Br: "Are you ok? He didn't touch you, did he?"

S: "I'm fine. Jamie got in his way."

Br: "What did he want? What did he say?"

S: "Money. He wants his money. He said he'll be waiting for me at River Court at seven tonight."

Br: "River Court? What is that?"

S: "It's this public basketball court by the river. I found Jamie there. Vik must have followed me from the house."

He spins around, walks quietly over to the window and starts staring out over the ocean. When a hesitant Skylar joins him, she can see the wheels turning in his eyes. It's an all-too-familiar look; one that screams to Skylar that Brandon has a plan she's not going to like.

S: "No, no, no. Stop whatever you're thinking. You're not going. He wants me. I will talk him down. Ask for more time. Brandon, do you hear me?"

When he turns to face her, he looks calm and determined. It's another all-too-familiar look; this time, Skylar knows before he utters one word that he's already made up his mind.

Br: "I have the money. Well, part of it. I'll make him take it and leave you alone. We're not discussing this, Sky. Do not ask me to let you go alone. It's not an option. I can handle him. This ends tonight."

And that's the end of that conversation for Brandon. Final word said. Skylar knows she can't change his mind no matter how hard she may try. So, she simply watches him walk towards the bed, sit down on the floor, and pick up a notebook she hadn't noticed before. She slowly joins him and sits down next to him.

S: "What is that?"

Br: "Brooke's diary."

Brandon hands the diary to her, slumps forward over his curled legs and drops his heavy head on his knees. He waits silently as she reads the same entry he did earlier.

S: "I don't know what to say. This is…"

He raises his head and puts his chin on his hands over his knees.

Br: "Fucked up? Bullshit? Ramblings of a madwoman?"

She slaps him so hard on the shoulder with the diary that he almost falls over.

S: "Why don't you drop the act, dumbass? It's just you and me here. You don't have to pretend. In case you're wondering, I was going to say so beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. How did you get this anyway?"

Br: "I kind of borrowed it. Long story."

He takes out the picture from inside his jacket pocket and hands it to her.

S: "So cute! Look at those dimples! Is this you?"

Brandon nods his head.

Br: "I found that in Brooke's wallet earlier."

S: "What were you doing in her wallet? Brandon Walker, please tell me you did not steal the money! The journal, the picture, the cash…you're turning into a bona fide thief!"

Br: "Shhh…quiet! Do you want to call the cops, too? Why don't you focus on what's important, Red? What is that picture doing in her wallet? How did she get it? Why does she have it?"

Skylar looks at the picture in silence for a few seconds before she hands it back to him. Her hand goes for his and she holds onto it tight, intermingling her fingers with his. She puts her head on his shoulder and he rests his head on hers.

S: "Some day you're having. How do you feel?"

Br: "I don't know. How am I supposed to feel?"

S: "Guilty about the thievery, but we'll put that to the side for now. The rest is really up to you."

Br: "Do you think it's genuine? I mean what she wrote in there? Do you believe it's the truth?"

S: "Whom would she be lying to? Herself? It's not like she wrote this for anyone else. Yes, I think it's one hundred percent sincere. All of it. When she says she misses you, that she loves you…the conflict, the hurt…it's all in there in black and white."

As he looks at the journal now lying on the floor between him and Skylar, Brandon takes a deep breath and sighs. It's one of those times when he feels completely and utterly lost. Desperately in need of guidance.

Br: "What do I do now?"

S: "I can't tell you that. Even if I could, I don't think I'm one to give advice on this one."

Maybe, it isn't guidance he needs. Maybe, it's someone who listens. Understands. Sympathizes. So, they both sit there, on the floor, with closed eyes, hand in hand, in that particular kind of silence only true friends find comforting.

S: "Vik told Jamie some things…he never wants to see me again."

Br: "Well, he's an idiot. He has no idea that it's his loss."

S: "Brandon? Promise you'll never leave me?"

Br: "Never. It's always going to be you and me, Vinnifred."

And, they both smile at the simple yet irrefutable and reassuring truth in that declaration. Whatever happens with the rest of the hundreds of people who come in and out of their lives…the Jamies and the Viks, the Brookes and the Lucases of the world…they'll always have each other. After all, that's how strongly two bodies sharing one soul cling to each other.

While Brandon and Skylar are upstairs trying to find a way to make sense of their latest conundrum, Brooke and Rachel are in the study faced with a puzzle of their own. A baffled Brooke is holding her empty wallet in her hand and sharing her frustration with Rachel.

Brooke: "I don't understand. My assistants wouldn't dare steal from me. And, the models were never alone in here."

Brooke noticed the cash missing a half hour ago when she reached for her wallet to pay for the food delivery. While Rachel spotted her for the cost, she dismissed the assistants and the models to figure out what happened.

Rachel: "Are you sure you had the cash in there?"

B: "Yes, I'm sure. I saw it just this morning when Lucas and I gave Brandon his allowance right here in this room."

That's the moment it dawns on Rachel that Brandon must be the culprit. After all, she did catch him pawning his watch for some cash just a few hours ago. But, she doesn't quite know how to break the news to an unsuspecting Brooke.

B: "Oh my God. I know who did it."

R: "Brooke, I'm sure there's a good reason for this. If you just talk to him…"

B: "Him? No, it's Skylar. It must be. She came in to ask how she could find Jamie and I left her alone for a second."

R: "You can't be sure. Let's not jump to conclusions."

B: "Who else could it be?"

Rachel takes an awkward pause as she runs scenarios in her head trying to find the least damaging way to come clean about the pawnshop. The second Brooke sees her friend avert her eyes, she knows that there's something important Rachel is hesitant to divulge.

B: "Rachel? Who? Who is this _him _you think I should talk to?"

R: "Ok. Don't bite my head off for saying this, but maybe it's Brandon."

Brooke scoffs at the suggestion and throws her arms up in the air in disbelief.

B: "My son would never steal from me! Why would he have to? All he has to do is ask and I'd give him whatever he needs."

R: "Does he know that? Maybe it was an emergency. Maybe he wanted it to be a secret. Maybe he doesn't want you to know why he needs it. Ask him, Brooke. Don't accuse him. But, calmly, talk to him."

B: "I'm not going to ask him if he stole from me! There's no way Brandon did this. You don't know him."

Incredulous, Brooke keeps shaking her head, but the slight change in her expression tells Rachel that the seeds of suspicion have been firmly planted.

R: "How well do _you_ know him?"

Brooke doesn't get a chance to answer when their argument is interrupted by the curious voice of Lucas, who arrives late enough to hear only the end of their conversation.

Lucas: "Know whom?"

B: "There's money missing from my wallet and Rachel here thinks Brandon stole it."

L: "There was a ton of people here this morning. To think Brandon did it is nonsense. It's not possible."

R: "You're telling me he was never alone in here?"

L: "Well, maybe for a second. I left him out in the hallway after Brooke got called away."

B: "No. He wouldn't do that. Skylar was here earlier and I actually think she may have done it."

R: "Guys, come on. You can't accuse anyone without proof. You both need to calm down."

B: "Well, isn't that what you're doing to Brandon? Pointing the finger at him without proof? Or do you have proof? What aren't you telling me, Rachel?"

R: "Just go talk to your son."

L: "That's fine. We'll ask him. He won't lie to us."

As Lucas hurries down the hallway, Brooke keeps staring at Rachel annoyed that she's adamant in keeping her silence. So, as she walks out, she makes sure the accuser is there to witness the exoneration of her son.

B: "You're coming with us."

Rachel and Brooke find Lucas waiting for them outside Brandon's door. Getting the nod from Brooke, Lucas knocks on the door.

L: "Brandon, are you in there? Can we talk to you for a minute?"

Inside, the knock startles Skylar and Brandon who quickly slides the journal under his bed. As he stands up and pulls Skylar up, he responds to Lucas's request.

Br: "Yes, come on in."

Seeing that Lucas has Brooke and Rachel with him and how nervous they all look, Brandon gets a knot in his stomach. He knows that Brooke must have figured out the money is missing.

Br: "Look at that, we've got a full house. What do I owe this visit to the devil's lair?"

As Rachel hangs back to watch, Brooke and Lucas look at each other wondering which one of them have enough courage for the right words to confront their son.

Br: "Who died?"

L: "Brandon, we have to ask you something. We don't want you to take this the wrong way."

B: "And, whatever your answer is, we will believe you."

L: "But, we do need you to tell us the truth."

Br: "Ok. Fine. I do happen to find flannel pjs comfortable from the time to time, and I'm partial to a low-cut back on a dress. To be honest, the lower the hotter. But, that's just me."

Unaware of what's about to happen, Skylar snickers as she watches Brandon toy with the adults.

L: "This is serious. You can be serious for a minute, right?"

Br: "Yes, sir."

B: "I…uhm, there's…ok, the thing is…"

As Brooke fumbles on the way to the actual question, Brandon wishes she would just rip the band-aid off and ask already.

Br: "Anytime this century would be great."

L: "There's some cash missing from Brooke's wallet. And…"

Br: "And, you're here to chastize the bad boy who stole it."

Clearly annoyed at how Lucas, in a very nonchalant manner, jumped right in, Brooke elbows him in the ribs as she takes a step closer to Brandon.

B: "No, not at all. That's not what Lucas meant. Look, we're not accusing you of anything. We just want to ask so we know what happened. Give you a chance to deny…or explain."

Skylar sees a pleading look in Brooke's eyes and hears a hopeful tone in her voice. The kind that pleads for forgiveness for daring to ask him. The kind that hopes that he denies. Instead of explain. The arrogance in Brandon's stand disappears, and as he looks down, Skylar knows he's finally showing that guilt she told him he should be feeling. As everyone waits for Brandon to break the silence, the tension rises so high that Skylar can't stand it. After all, she's the reason her best friend is in this mess to begin with. And, there is no way she'll be the reason he loses his parents. So, she steps in to save him, just like he's done for her a million times before.

S: "It was me. Brandon had nothing to do with it. He didn't even know about it. I took the money."

As Brooke closes her eyes and sighs in relief, Rachel and Brandon turn to look at Skylar in complete shock.

Br: "Sky, what are you doing?"

S: "It's better this way, Brandon. Let me do this. Please."

B: "But why? I don't get it. We've been nothing but nice to you. We welcomed you into our home. If you needed money, you could have asked us."

S: "I…I'm really sorry, Brooke. I wish it never happened, but it did. I'm grateful for your hospitality. I really am. I'll get my things and go. I am truly sorry."

They all watch as Skylar starts walking towards the door. Except for Rachel, who remains fixed on a frozen Brandon. Skylar turns back briefly to smile at Brandon and reaches her hand to open the door. But, much to Rachel's relief, Brandon's voice stops her before she can walk out.

Br: "Stop! No, this is all wrong. She's not the one who stole from you. I am."

B: "What? But, she just confessed."

Br: "She's just trying to protect me. I'm the one who took the cash. $200, right? Black leather wallet."

When Skylar takes a step forward and opens her mouth to object, Brandon holds up his hand to stop her. Brooke and Lucas look at him in disbelief, and then back at Skylar in confusion. Sensing their hesitation over whom to believe, Brandon knows he has to do the thing he dreads the most. He decides to show them irrefutable proof that he is the real guilty party. He walks closer to Brooke, reaches inside his pocket and takes out the picture. He reaches for Brooke's hand, places the picture on her palm, and steps back.

Br: "Here. I took this from your wallet too."

As Brooke looks down at her hand, Lucas and Rachel come closer to see the new proof as well. While Lucas tries to figure out what the picture means, Rachel immediately recognizes it. As she stares at the picture in silence, Brooke feels crushed under the insurmountable weight of not only her son's apparent guilt, but also hers now out in the open under the bright limelight. Rachel doesn't have to see her friend's face to know exactly how she must be feeling. So, she decides to give Brooke, Lucas, and Brandon the privacy they need to hash out everything. Turning to Skylar, she proposes an alternate accommodation for the night.

R: "Sky, why don't you come stay with me tonight? These three need some time to talk."

Skylar looks over at Brandon who gives her the nod of agreement. He knows things are about to get ugly in the house and the fact that Vik won't find her at Rachel's is a welcome bonus.

Br: "It's ok. Go with her. It's better that way."

Skylar slowly walks up to Brandon and hugs him tight. It's not only strength for the confrontation that she wishes the hug transfers from her to him, but also appreciation for clearing her name. Still in the hug, they whisper low enough to be heard by only each other.

Br: "Thank you for what you tried to do."

S: "Thank you for not letting me."

Br: "Make sure you're not followed."

S: "I will."

When they part, she gives him a slight smile of gratitude before walking out. Brooke looks at Rachel as she's about to follow Skylar out, and her eyes convey a silent _I'm sorry_. Sometimes there is no need for apologies or thanks among friends. A brief smile or a quick nod implies the sentiment better than words ever can. Especially to those who know us well enough to understand the subtle differences in each expression. When Rachel closes the door behind her, Brooke, Lucas, and Brandon are left alone in unbearable silence. As a frozen Brooke's eyes remain glued to the picture, Lucas can't help but ask for an explanation.

L: "Brooke, what is that picture? Is that…"

Br: "Me. Yep, that's me. Well, the six year old me. The real question is why Brooke has it."

L: "No, you see, the real question is why you have it, Brandon. You stole the cash and the picture?"

B: "Lucas, please."

Brooke reaches out and grabs Lucas's arm and her eyes show the kind of determination that practically orders him to stand down. With teary eyes, she walks past Lucas to stand before Brandon.

B: "Ok, I get it. I can't ask you for answers if I'm not willing to give some myself. So, here it is. I've had this picture with me for ten years. Actually, it's been one of a handful of constants in my life. I have it, because it's yours. I have it, because I love seeing your face every time I open my wallet. Sometimes, I actually open it just to see your face. And, before you ask, your mother gave that picture to me. As odd as it may sound to you, she was my friend."

_*****  
Nine Years and Eleven Months Ago, The Walker Residence, Charleston, South Carolina**_

Brooke pulls the car over, looks at the address on the piece of paper she's holding and up through her car window at the house across the street. The house number matches. A part of her wished it was the wrong address or that she'd drive around in circles never finding it. Two years ago, Brooke hired the private detective Sam Spade to locate the Walkers. It was a decision she struggled with for four years; more specifically, since the day the Walkers left the hospital with her son. She was at her FIT graduation ceremony, in her cap and gown with her diploma at hand, hugging Rachel, when she found herself watching the crowd around her. Families…big and small, fathers congratulating their daughters, sons running up to their mothers, deliriously happy and truly complete. The exact opposite of how she'd felt since she gave birth. That's the moment Brooke Davis decided she could no longer live without her son. When after two long years of searching, Sam called her out of the blue to tell her that her wish had finally come true, Brooke spent a week debating what the right next move was. She didn't tell anyone but her son. She asked him whether he'd prefer she leave him alone or come and find him. He never responded. After all, journals don't talk back. And, she should know this already; if nothing, a box full of one-sided conversations is all the evidence she needs. Now, staring at her son's house with both hands on the steering wheel and a foot ready to hit the gas pedal, she's thrown back in that uncertainty. Stay or go. Fight of flight.

Before she can make up her mind, the front door opens and a woman in her late thirties comes out smiling…Caroline Walker…and a little blond boy of about six follows her…her son. He's wearing a blue shirt and jeans, and has a backpack on his tiny shoulders. Caroline stops, spins around, and kneels down to re-tie his shoelaces. When she stands up, she messes with the boy's hair in a loving manner that makes him smile. _Dimples._ God, this happy, bouncy, cheery little one is her son. And, he's so beautiful that Brooke can sense her heart breaking in a million sharp pieces. Each piece launches at such high speed into a different corner inside her that she feels them cutting, digging, twisting in deeper with every step the boy takes towards her. But, it's not really her he's walking to. A big yellow school bus turns around the corner and stops in front of the house. Caroline kneels down again and gives the boy a tight hug and kisses him on both cheeks before she helps him up the bus steps. She stands there waving at his little face pressed against the window. She yells something that Brooke can't hear. Probably something like _have a great day at school _or _I love you, son. _That's what Brooke would have said anyway. But, instead she gets to sit in a car and watch the bus take off and the distance between them get longer and longer. It's like the bus picks up all those million sharp pieces of her heart and makes it whole again. Except, this time, it yanks it right out of her chest and drives away with it. And, there's nothing Brooke can do to stop it. If there were, she'd fight like hell to get them back…her heart and her son. That's how Brooke Davis sees her son for the first time.

When the bus is out of sight, she closes her eyes and lets her head fall onto the steering wheel. But, the moment's cut short when she's startled by a knock on her window. Her head straightens up and she turns to see a stunned Caroline.

Caroline: "Brooke?"

As Brooke debates whether she should just hit the gas and take off or get out of the car and fess up, Caroline tries to put her at ease.

C: "It is you. I can't believe you're here. Why don't you come inside, Brooke? It's ok. Really."

Once inside the house, they sit in the living room in silence for a while. Brooke surveys the room carefully as if she's trying to burn it into her memory. She imagines her son sitting at the round cherry table for family dinners or on the sofa with his parents watching a movie, coming through the door after a day spent biking with his friends or laying out his books on the coffee table to do his homework. This is where he lives, his home. And, in case she never gets to see him in it, she at least wants to remember enough details to dream about him later. Caroline makes small talk for a few minutes…a simple how are you, how's work, where do you live now and so on. But, it doesn't take long for her to move onto the more loaded questions like how she found them and why she's there. She doesn't seem threatened by Brooke's sudden arrival, more so curious and uneasy.

B: "I…I thought…I just wanted to see him. See that he's ok. Healthy. Happy."

C: "He is. Did you see him outside just now?"

B: "Yes. For a minute."

C: "Then you saw how happy he is. He started first grade on Monday. Today was his first day riding the bus. He claimed all the cool kids took the bus so he didn't want his dad or I driving him anymore. There's no arguing with him when he's determined like that."

Brooke smiles as she thinks how stubborn he is, just like his mother.

C: "It's hard to watch him go. As much as he's having a blast in school, it's been hell being away from him for so long. What am I saying? Brooke, I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot sometimes."

B: "It's ok. I know what you mean."

C: "Of course, you do. Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe you'd like to see his room?"

B: "Yes, I'd love that."

Despite having never been inside a six-year-old boy's bedroom before, Brooke Davis has imagined her son's room countless times. She wondered if his nursery would have yellow wallpaper and what picture would hang above his crib. Once at work, she found herself sketching a tall white bookcase filled with bedtime stories for her two-year-old son. She even bought a set of crayons to be used in a mural only a four-year-old would paint on his bedroom walls. No, the room she walks into now isn't exactly a replica of what she dreamed up night after night, but it's still perfect in its own way. The walls are painted light blue and are mostly covered with pictures of him with his family and friends, a ton of his own artwork framed, and shelves full of books. Toys everywhere…trains, trucks, legos in a bin by the door, board games on a shelf, and a half-put-together puzzle on a table by the window. There's a baseball and a catcher's glove on the floor right by his bed. On his nightstand is a Buzz Lightyear action figure. The character must be his favorite, because as Brooke looks closer, she sees him on the bed sheets, the lampshade, and his towels hanging behind the door.

B: "He likes Toy Story, huh?"

C: "Like? He's watched the movie maybe fifty times. Guess who he wants to dress up as for Halloween?"

B: " Buzz?"

C: "Bingo."

Brooke picks up the figure off the nightstand and tries hard to hold back her tears as she stares at his bed.

C: "Brooke, are you ok?"

B: "It's just that I don't know him at all."

C: "Would you like to?"

Over a couple of cups of coffee in the kitchen, Caroline tells Brooke all about her son. How he's been generally healthy except for the infrequent fever spikes here and there, and the usual children's illnesses he caught in kindergarten like the chicken pox or the whooping cough. Nothing that couldn't be cured by a course of antibiotics. How whenever he got fussy as a baby, a short car ride around the block put him right to sleep. How his favourite toy has always been the red fire truck he got for his second birthday. How way before Buzz, there was Archie, Spiderman, and of course, Superman. How he scraped his knee when he was learning to ride the bike, but acted so tough because he didn't want anyone to see him cry. And, how he can't wait for his ninth birthday because that's when his father promised him he'd start teaching him how to surf.

C: "He's always had a lot of friends. Kids love him. He's fair when he plays, kind, caring. He protects the weak. Shares well with others. Sometimes, it's difficult to believe he's only six. He acts like such a grown-up. He's a happy kid, Brooke. Truly happy."

B: "Thank you."

C: "Anytime."

B: "No, I mean for raising him to be that happy kid you just described. Thank you for taking care of him, for loving him…for everything."

C: "You don't have to thank me for that. There is something you haven't asked me yet."

B: "Asked you what?"

C: "His name. Maybe that detective already told you."

B: "No, he didn't. I don't want to know."

Brooke gave specific instructions to Sam Spade…the report should not mention her son's name. For the last six years, she's called him Lucas, the middle name she gave him in the hospital. She's not ready for another name to replace that one. She knows it's silly, really. What's in a name? A couple syllables, a few letters meshed together. But, somehow, she thinks a brand new name transforms the Lucas that's been her son in her mind into a completely different person. And, Brooke isn't ready to lose him yet.

C: "Ok. So, what do you want to do now? I mean, you don't even want to know his name. Are you here to meet him? Or are you here to just watch him from a distance?"

B: "I..uhm…I'm not really sure how to do this. I want you to know I'm not here to cause trouble. The last thing I want to do is to disturb this peaceful home, this family. But, I do have something for him."

Brooke reaches inside her purse and takes out an envelope which she slides over to Caroline's side of the kitchen counter.

B: "I don't know if you told him anything about me or if you plan to. And, please don't misunderstand me. I'm not here to pressure you into doing anything. This is a letter I wrote to him. If and when you do decide to tell him he's adopted, and by some miracle, he wants to find me, I'd like you to give this to him. Is that ok? Can you do that for me?"

C: "Yes, that's ok. Brooke, we plan to tell him all about the adoption. There's no reason it needs to be a secret. We actually dabbled into that topic, albeit very briefly and clumsily, a couple of years ago. Nothing about you specifically though. But, we will tell him everything, very soon. And, we will let him decide what happens next. If he wants to know about you, find you, meet you, it's fine by us. If that day comes, you can count on me to deliver this letter."

Grateful for the promise, Brooke takes out her business card and hands it to Caroline.

B: "If anything happens, if for whatever reason you need to reach me, you can always call me at this number. My work cell phone never gets turned off. Thank you for everything. I should go. I already took too much of your time."

C: "Wait for just a second. I'll be right back."

When Caroline comes back less than a minute later, Brooke is by the door with her purse over her shoulder ready to leave. She walks closer and holds out her hand to give one final parting gift. When Brooke takes it, she sees that it's a small picture of her son.

C: "That was taken just a few days ago. First day of school. I think they're using it for the school ID. He was so jittery out of excitement the whole day that the photographer didn't even have to tell him to smile. Can you believe it? I thought you should have it. If you want it."

B: "Thank you."

C: "Stop thanking me. You know, the funny thing is I should be the one thanking you. This peaceful home as you called it, this happy family…none of it would be possible if you hadn't let us have him, Brooke. You have to know we are grateful for that every single day."

Sometimes, circumstances can turn a virtual stranger into the exact kind of friend we need. Someone to tell us the story we've been craving to hear for years, to sit with us in silence as we take it all in, to do what we couldn't yet should have done long ago, or to keep a promise for a future that we hope arrives. Yes, sometimes, we know nothing about a person, but that one thing, that one person, we have in common is so powerful and essential to us both that we are linked forever in our quest to keep it safe, cherished, and loved. That's the kind of instant friends Brooke Davis and Caroline Walker become that day. And, as Brooke walks out of her new friend's home, she gets this sinking feeling that it's the last time she'll ever see her.

B: "Goodbye, Caroline."

C: "Bye, Brooke."

_*****  
Present Day, Brandon's Bedroom, Tree Hill**_

As he quietly listens to Brooke tell the story of how she gained possession of his picture, Brandon stands frozen. The more he hears, the more the day he found out he was adopted begins to make sense. Brooke's unexpected visit must have been the reason his father came home early that day to have the talk with him. But, he doesn't understand why his parents never showed him Brooke's letter.

Br: "I never got your letter."

B: "I suspected as much. Your mother called me that same evening. She said they talked you, told you about being adopted, about how someone else gave birth to you. She said she had my letter in her pocket the whole time. But, that you didn't want to know anything. That you didn't even ask one question. So, they did as you wished. They let it go. She said that she would keep the letter safe for you and that if you ever did ask the question, you would have the answer. Most people would have thrown it away. Maybe even move so far away that I couldn't find you again. But, like I said, your mother was my friend."

After his parents died, Brandon kept only a few things that used to belong to them. Those he can keep on him at all times or small enough to fit in his one suitcase. His father's leather jacket. A box of pictures. Her mother's engagement ring and their wedding bands. And one small, gold safety deposit key. Apparently, the box was rented years ago under his mother's name. In fact, timing of the rental is shortly after Brooke's visit. As the sole surviving heir, the family lawyer told him that whatever was in that box now belonged to him. Brandon Walker keeps the key on a chain around his neck. He hasn't used it yet. He's always thought of it as one final gift from the beyond to be opened on a day when he needs it the most. And, if he ever does turn that key and look inside that box, the last thing he looks forward to in this world will disappear. But now, Brooke's words set the chain on fire and it feels like the key burns his skin right over his heart. Could it be that his mother's last gift is Brooke's letter?

"_Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival."  
~C.S. Lewis, 20__th __century British novelist_


	20. A Single Soul in Two Bodies: Part Three

_"No soul is desolate as long as there is a human being for whom it can feel trust and reverence."  
~__George Eliot, 19__th__ century English novelist_

Brooke has been standing tall and strong the entire time she's been telling the story of how she came to have the picture of young Brandon. It's a peculiar feeling to gain perspective into our own lives. To be able to finally let go of the painful parts, but manage to hold on to the good. Years later, Brooke Davis can smile when she thinks back on the day she first met her son. She remembers how content she felt when she saw the blond little one walk out of his house. How her heart warmed when he smiled squinting his father's blue eyes and flashing her signature dimples. But, it hadn't always been like that. The few days after Brooke received Caroline's phone call, which basically informed her that her letter would remain unopened for the foreseeable future, were the darkest she's ever had to endure. In fact, the only thing that brought her back to life was a hallucination: a distraught Lucas sitting by her hospital bed pleading her to come back to him. But, that is a story for a different time. Because, today's story is all about Brandon's sticky fingers. So, Brooke turns to face her bemused son sitting on the bed, and demands that he return the favor and come clean as well.

Brooke: "You have your answers. Now, it's my turn."

Brandon: "What do you want to know?"

B: "Why don't we start with why you stole from me?"

Br: "I can't tell you that."

Trying not to interrupt what he deemed to be between mother and son, Lucas has been leaning against the wall quietly listening to Brooke's story. Sometimes, perspective goes both ways. The more we learn about the struggles of someone we care about, the more we start blaming ourselves for not doing or saying things we should have to spare them the pain. If there had been any room within Lucas for more regrets or guilt, after that story, there wouldn't have been a fraction of an inch left. He finally knows the reason why, almost ten years ago, he had to sit by a comatose Brooke's hospital bed pleading her to come back to him. That's the cruel trick life plays on us. The one we need the most disappears before capture so we are left wondering if that brief moment of togetherness had only been a hallucination. But, that is a story for a different time. Because, today's story is all about broken trust and disappointment. So, Lucas walks a few steps forward to stand beside Brooke and joins in the conversation.

Lucas: "That's unacceptable, Brandon. If you're in trouble, we need to know. Why do you need money?"

Br: "I'm not in trouble. Not exactly. Well, not me anyway."

B: "Then who? Skylar?"

Br: "If you don't want me to lie to you, stop asking me these questions. It's not my truth to share."

L: "Since this top secret mission is financed by Brooke, don't you think she has a right to know?"

Shaking his head, Brandon looks down. A part of him wishes he could tell them exactly what's going on. Ask for their help. There are things no sixteen-year-old should have to deal with on his own. But, then he remembers he is no ordinary teenager. And, these people before him may look trustworthy, but they are nowhere close to sharing their deepest darkest secrets yet.

Br: "Look, I could have made up a story. Doesn't it count for something that I'm telling you the truth? I'm sorry but I just can't tell you any more."

Brooke sighs and looks away for a moment before turning to face Brandon with a new plan.

B: "Hand it back. The $200 you stole? I'm waiting. Come on."

Br: "I can't give it back to you."

L: "You already spent it?"

He hasn't of course. The cash is lying safely in his pocket. But, it's supposed to have a new owner shortly. If he tells the truth and returns it now, he's not sure he can protect Skylar. And, that is unacceptable. Since he doesn't want to lie, he remains quiet. Brooke and Lucas wait for him to respond for a few seconds. When it's clear he won't, Brooke comes up with an alternative.

B: "Ok. Then, you'll pay me back. Let's round up the minimum wage to $10 an hour, and I'm being way too generous here. That's 20 hours of labor you owe me."

All of a sudden, Brandon realizes that Rachel must not have told them about the pawnshop. Or the math would be very different. He's genuinely surprised and grateful that Rachel didn't blow the whistle on him. Unfortunately, he finds himself unable to keep it under wraps any longer. Maybe it's that the honesty gate is too difficult to close once opened. Or maybe, albeit inexplicable to him, he feels the need to start putting back together what he broke…their trust in him.

Br: "That's fair. I can work for the money. But, let's make that $950. I owe Rachel $750."

While Brooke is frozen speechless, Lucas can't keep his shock inside.

L: "What? You stole from her too?"

Br: "No. It's not like that. Let's just say she lent me the money and leave it at that, shall we?"

B: "Unbelievable! I knew she knew more than she was saying."

L: "Anything else you want to come clean on? Should I be checking my wallet too?"

Br: "No, that's it. Honest. So, can you pay her back for me and just add it to my sentence?"

While the adults look at each other in disbelief, Brandon nervously awaits their answer. Bringing one hand to her forehead, Brooke walks over to the window and stares out over the ocean. When she begins speaking, she has a calm yet stern tone in her voice.

B: "We will cover your debt to Rachel which means you owe us 95 hours of labor. You'll work for me in the mornings. Do whatever my assistants tell you. You'll find out how glamorous it is being an office boy. You know, run errands, open the mail? Any objections?"

Br: "Nope, errands, mail. Got it."

As she continues listing her conditions, Brooke remains looking out the window with her back to Brandon who breathes a sigh of relief.

B: "Lucas, you think you can use him at the body shop? Or see if Karen needs help at the Café?"

L: "There's always oil to be changed, cars to be washed. Oh, I can definitely think of something for him to do. But, I'll ask mom, too."

B: "And you're grounded. Until the wedding. No electronics. That means no phone, no computer, no TV. You go to work and you come home. That's it."

Br: "See, that, I'm not ok with."

L: "I didn't hear Brooke ask for your opinion. What makes you think you have a choice here?"

Brooke turns around and leans her back against the windowpane. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks directly at Brandon.

B: "Listen to me. You can deny it all you want or whine about it to whomever listens. But, you are the kid and we are the parents. And, when the kid does something wrong, the parents make sure he learns his lesson."

Br: "And, what lesson do you think grounding me teaches?"

L: "That it's not ok to steal. Under any circumstances. That when you mess up like this, there will be serious consequences. Not the least of which is breaking our trust. Do you know how hard it is to earn back trust, Brandon?"

Lucas knows exactly how hard it is. He had almost seventeen years to think about it, yet he still hasn't figured out how it's done. There is one thing the long years taught him though. Once you find something, someone, worthy, the real mistake is not broken trust; it's giving up on rebuilding it. Brandon, on the other hand, suggests a different course of action. That's the thing about the wounds of the past. Some are too deep to ever completely heal. There has never been anything more constant in Brandon Walker's life than such entrenched wounds. The two people who have, time and again, told him they would be there for him are gone. Yes, not by choice, but gone, nonetheless. And, if that promise could be broken, how could he ever believe that Brooke and Lucas would stick around? Stay with him. No matter what happens. Maybe, it's best he leaves before they do.

Br: "Wouldn't you rather I pack up and go? Just like you were ready to let Sky do?"

B: "You're wrong. I wasn't willing to let her go. That was just the initial shock of it all. And, you don't get to leave. I'm going to keep saying this until you believe me. Lucas and I are one hundred percent committed to this family. But, it doesn't mean we will treat you daintily. You're not some delicate flower to be protected. Neither are we. When a family is as real as ours, it's not some fragile breakable. It's the most solid thing there is. There will be no walking on eggshells under this roof. So, you bet your ass we'll get angry with you for disappointing us. You can do the same to us if…no, when, we let you down. But, the three of us…we don't get to quit. You see, that's what it means to be a family. You suck it up and accept your punishment."

Since she's completely focused on her son, Brooke doesn't notice the way Lucas looks at her while she speaks. It's part admiration, part respect. Adoration. Maybe, he's even a little turned on. Not that he'd admit that to anyone. He's always thought a stringent Brooke Davis leaving the kid gloves to the side and taking charge is one hell of an attractive sight. So, he leans back and listens to see how she handles Brandon's next request.

Br: "Can this primitive imprisonment begin in two hours?"

B: "Absolutely not!"

Br: "I have to take care of something. I will obey all your rules the second I get back. You can say no, but just know that it only means I will have to find a way to sneak out."

B: "God, you're just…you know what? I can't even get mad. I did ask for honesty after all."

L: "Does this have anything to do with why you stole the money?"

Br: "Yes, but I can't tell you any more than that."

B: "Is it dangerous?"

Br: "I could get hit by a bus crossing the street."

B: "So, it's dangerous. Lucas, can you go with him?"

Br: "Do you trust me?"

Incredulous at what she just heard, Brooke mocks the question.

B: "Are you really asking me that on the same day you stole from me and my best friend?"

Br: "Look, this is something I have to do alone. I know I don't have the right to ask you to trust me after what I did today. But, I'm going to anyway. I was wrong. I shouldn't have stolen from you. I am truly sorry for that. It's not going to happen again. And, I promise to be back in two hours ready to submit to your shackles."

Somehow, after everything he did that day, after she just ridiculed his request, Brooke believes her son. When she turns to catch Lucas's eyes, she sees that very same belief in his. Maybe despite her better judgment, maybe because of it, she decides to give him a chance.

B: "Ok. Do not make me regret this."

L: "If you're not back in two hours, we're adding a day to your self-proclaimed imprisonment for every minute you're late."

B: "Your computer and TV will be gone by the time you're back. You'll hand over your phone then as well. Two hours. Not a second longer."

When Brandon looks at Brooke and Lucas, he thinks for a second that he almost sees real parents…worried and cautious, but caring and trusting. Whether they're real or just his hallucination, he's grateful for the permission granted. So he hurries towards the door, but stops momentarily when he opens it. He doesn't turn back to say what's on his mind. After all, the carriage might turn into a pumpkin if he looks close enough.

Br: "Thank you."

As Brandon leaves closing the door behind him, Brooke's legs finally give in. So, she practically collapses onto the bed. Not exactly out of exhaustion. More so because it took all her strength to watch Brandon leave just now. Her legs dangling off the edge of the bedframe, she stares up at the ceiling. Lucas slowly joins her and sits down on the bed next to her.

L: "Are you ok?"

B: "Ask me how desperately I want to follow him to wherever he's going."

L: "I don't have to ask. I'm seriously considering gluing my feet together so I can't run after him myself."

B: "Tell me we did the right thing."

L: "We did the right thing."

She sits up slowly but steadily, and looks at him with inquiring eyes.

B: "Are you just saying that or do you actually believe it?"

L: "He messed up. Big time. And, he knows that. I believe that what he has to do now is important or he wouldn't have asked our permission to leave. Like he said, he could have lied and snuck out the second we turned our backs. We can't ask him to tell the truth and punish him for doing so."

Dropping her upper body back onto the bed, Brooke sighs.

B: "This sucks."

Smiling, Lucas slumps down onto the bed next to her. They lie on their backs, side by side, shoulders touching, both staring at the ceiling.

L: "So eloquently put Ms. Davis."

B: "The worry is never going to go away, is it? This constant, agonizing fear over if he's ok? I'm forever doomed to wonder whom he's with, what he's doing, where he is. It's always going to be like this, isn't it?"

L: "I'm afraid so."

B: "I'm glad you came home early. I couldn't have done this without you."

L: "You'll never have to, Brooke."

When Brooke turns to look at him, she finds him looking back at her. And, their eyes remain locked on each other for a few seconds. It's comforting to hear the promise that he'll always be there. For her. Even if he may not be able to keep it. The look in his eyes is familiar. It reminds Brooke of very similar assurances he's made many times before. In a different lifetime. Maybe, he believed those promises then just like he may now. But, they both know better. Their story didn't quiet end with her never having to do _this _without him. So, she averts her eyes breaking the tension. She quickly sits up, and begins fixing the slight bedhead. Loose strands of hair are like those loose memories, unruly and rebellious; but, one way or another, they always yield to a determined hand tucking them back into their place.

B: "I know you'll be here for Brandon. I always knew you'd be a great father."

L: "I don't just mean him. I'm here for you too."

Sensing that she's about to break away, Lucas sits up, cautiously, trying his best not to scare her away. When she's convinced that the unruly strands of hair are back where they belong, Brooke lets her hands drop on her lap. She keeps looking out the window into the blue sky preparing to change color…anywhere but him, really.

B: "This parenting thing…it's working, right? Us? Together…here? We're ok, aren't we?"

L: "No, we're not ok. We're better than ok. I can't tell you we won't make mistakes. But, yes, I think it's working."

And, just like that, his right hand reaches for her left and their eyes find one another again. When Brooke speaks, her eyes and voice unintentionally reveal how nervous she is.

B: "Luke, can I tell you something?"

L: "Anything."

As an anxious Lucas stares at her, Brooke takes an uneasy pause hesitating whether she should continue. She looks down at her hand in his, and up again into his eyes. Sometimes, there's no use in holding back; we just jump. Head first. And, pray it all works out.

B: "I've forgotten what it's like to have you in my life. I hadn't realized how much I've missed it."

Is it possible to be disappointed when we hear that someone has missed us in her life? It's usually good news, isn't it? Maybe, good news is relative. It depends on what we expected, better yet hoped to hear to begin with. That's the moment it becomes crystal clear to Lucas Scott that what he wants, when it comes to Brooke Davis, is not to be missed. In fact, he wants to be so close that he's within reach at all times making sure she never has to miss him ever again. Brooke wonders if it's discomfort or even letdown she sees in Lucas's eyes before he looks away. Then, he smiles, erasing any awkwardness and alleviating all her worries.

B: "We are friends again, aren't we?"

L: "Yes. But, not _again_. Still. Always."

And, she smiles back at him briefly before she takes her hand away from his and gets up off the bed. She turns around to face him.

B: "Hey, friend?"

L: "Yeah?"

B: "You think you can disconnect all these cables from his TV so we can take it down to the study?"

L: "You were serious about no electronics?"

B: "You bet I was."

While Brooke and Lucas prepare Brandon's room for the impending three-day grounding, Rachel and Skylar are in her car driving to a mystery location. Suspecting that she's the reason behind Brandon's urgent need for cash, Rachel has gently been pushing Skylar to open up. But, the teenager puts up such a tough wall insulated by complete silence that all the probing questions are left unanswered. So, Rachel stops the car midway on the road to her house and turns it around.

Rachel: "Hold on."

The car screeching to a halt and the swift 180-degree turn around startles and scares Skylar. The youngster turns to the driver with a blanched face and a hand hanging tight onto the dashboard.

Skylar: "What the hell are you doing? Are you freaking trying to kill me?"

R: "Oh, so you _can_ talk! Has anyone ever died of a frost-bite just because you decided to shut them out?"

S: "No, but people have died in car accidents! What idiot gave you a driver's license?"

R: "Oh please! Settle down red hot. We're going barely forty miles an hour. Nothing's going to happen to you. We're almost there anyway."

S: "Where? I thought you said we were going to your place. Where are you taking me?"

This time it's Rachel's turn to keep her silence. They drive on a practically empty road for several miles.

S: "Why do all the crazies find me? Boggles the mind, really. Do I give off some sort of super secret scent only the clinically insane can pick up on? You are certifiable, you know that, right?"

R: "Takes one to know one."

S: "You either tell me now where you're taking me or pull over so I can get out."

Rachel gradually pulls over to the side of the road and takes the key off the ignition.

R: "We're here. Let's go."

Looking out the windshield, all Skylar can see is an old, short, practically deserted bridge. No other cars, no pedestrians, no buildings.

S: "What? The bridge? Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather stay inside the car. I'm not exactly wearing my push-me-off-the-bridge clothes."

R: "I'm not going to push off the bridge. I tried that once. I know for a fact it doesn't work."

S: "Was that supposed to make me feel better? It's official. You are insane."

R: "Suit yourself."

Skylar watches nervously as Rachel gets out of the car and slowly walks to the middle of the bridge. She leans down slightly, grips the railing tight with both hands, and stares out into the water below. Despite every instinct telling her to lock the car doors and hotwire the damn thing so she can escape, Skylar can't resist that tiny urge getting bigger inside to find out why Rachel brought her to this middle of nowhere. Knowing what she's about to do is probably a terrible idea, she exhales deeply and curses at the wind. She gets out of the car, slams the door shut, and starts walking onto the bridge.

S: "Damn it. She's right. I'm just as crazy."

She finally reaches Rachel and stands back a few steps. When her presence isn't acknowledged after a few seconds, she gets closer and leans down to see what she's staring at.

S: "Trying to figure out if the water's deep enough to jump? I really wish you had told me you were suicidal before I got in your car."

R: "Shut up and listen. Or you can walk back into town. Miles on foot and wolves in the woods. I wouldn't recommend it."

Skylar leans back to see if she can spot any headlights coming their way, but hitchhiking doesn't seem possible. She considers walking for a second. But, a strange place she doesn't know and the sun about to set don't make for a good combination for a trekking adventure. So, the slight anger makes her kick off the bridge the dirt under her feet and pace a few steps back and forth before she stops besides Rachel. She sighs, crosses her arms over her chest, and starts tapping her foot.

S: "Fine. I'm listening."

Some of us prefer to keep our darkest moments exactly where they are…in the dark. It's extremely difficult to possess the kind of strength, show the kind of vulnerability becoming an open book implies. Others find it therapeutic to share. Bringing into light what used to remain hidden. Secrets weigh heavier by the day. Past mistakes form shackles around our feet unless we can find a way to get past them. We tell our stories so that the long-awaited way-out appears. So that others in similar circumstances recognize a part of themselves in us and, if they're lucky, find some semblance of comfort in knowing they're not alone in their struggle. Despite knowing all that, to share is still painful. Even years later. Even if we are completely different people than we used to be. After almost seventeen years, a pensive Rachel Gatina stands, once again, on the Molina Bridge where she's seeing flashes of her immature and impulsive teenage self in the water. When she finally begins to tell her story, she avoids making eye contact with Skylar.

R: "I wasn't much older than you are now when this bridge changed my life."

S: "Oh, I get it now. This is where we bond. You'll pull some sappy story from your misunderstood teenage years and I'll feel all bad for you. Save your breath."

R: "I wish. But, nope, that's not it. You see, this place, what happened here…I was definitely not the victim."

Surprised at the unexpected confession, Skylar becomes intrigued by the story.

S: "What did you do?"

R: "I fell in love. With the wrong guy. And, I lost it. I lied, manipulated, schemed…whatever it took to hold onto him. Fast forward to the end of the so-called relationship, and you see a drunk, pissed-off me making a complete fool of myself ruining a perfectly good wedding reception, stealing a car to runaway, lying about being pregnant, and forcing that stolen car off this very bridge into that cold river. Cooper, the man I loved, was in that car. Brandon's father saved him. Nathan, Jamie's dad, pulled me out of the water."

S: "Was everyone ok?"

R: "We all survived, but no, nobody was ok. It took Nathan a long time to get past it. Cooper was in a coma; he almost died. I didn't know what it meant to hit rock bottom before that day. It took endangering four lives for me to figure out that's exactly where I was. Rock bottom. So, no. I didn't bring you here to tell you a sappy story so you'd feel sorry for me. I brought you here to show you that everyone screws up. We all get in over our heads. It's easy for things to get out of control. And, you lose yourself. I'm not saying it's ok, but it's also not the end of the world. It happens to us all. It sure as hell happened to me."

Sometimes, it takes only a split second to see people so clearly that we feel we've known them our entire lives. But, sometimes, our first impressions can deceive us. The more we get to know people the more they surprise us with who they really are. The Rachel Gatina Skylar met at Brandon's birthday party is not exactly the same flawed kindred spirit who stands before her at that moment. Unplugged and undressed. Defenseless yet tough. And, somehow, Skylar begins to think that maybe, just maybe, she could be making a new friend.

S: "How did you fix it? I mean, what did you do to make it ok again?"

R: "I'll let you know when it happens."

S: "So, it's hopeless, huh? The lesson of the story is that you make mistakes and you can't ever make up for them."

R: "I'm not here to give you life lessons, Sky. I'm here to tell you that you're not alone. That it takes time to repair what you break. And, that you don't have to do it alone."

S: "I'm not alone."

R: "Brandon. I saw what you tried to do for him today. As misguided as it is, a false confession does scream you care. You were stupid. Yet, noble. You two seem very close."

S: "Well, he wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for me."

R: "I gathered as much. He mentioned he had to help a friend. Would you like to tell me what kind of trouble you're in?"

Skylar looks away as she tries to decide whether she should confide in Rachel. A part of her wants to. Where does she begin, how much does she reveal, how does she end? Yes, Rachel shared an incriminating memory with her. But, that's all it was. A mistake from years ago. Unlike Rachel's revelation from the past, Skylar's troubles are alive and breathing today. And, even though the eyes fixed on her seem warm and welcoming, they still belong to a virtual stranger. Sensing her hesitation, Rachel tries a different approach.

R: "After the accident, I was unconscious for a long time in the hospital. The first person I saw when I opened my eyes was Brooke. We had never really been friends before that day. Mutual hatred was more like it. I couldn't fool her. By the end of the day, we were roommates. And, we've been inseparable ever since. She was pregnant with Brandon at the time so she had her own drama going on. But, she was there for me. She expected more from me so I had a reason to be a better person. No one ever expected anything from me before, you know? She listened without judgment. Sometimes, that's all we need. If you let me, I'd like to do that for you."

Skylar is still silent in her hesitation. It's not because she doesn't believe Rachel. The words, the sentiment, the offer…it's obvious they are all genuine. In fact, for the first time in years, she feels so comfortable and close to someone other than Brandon that it scares her. Trust has never come easy to her. It's not so straightforward to erase from our DNA what life teaches us at every turn. After all, it was just this morning when Jamie walked away from her after finding out a small part of who she really is. Skylar Madsen isn't ready to reveal what's behind the mask again. Because she doesn't want to lose Rachel Gatina, too.

R: "We don't have to do this now. Just know that I'm here when you're ready."

That's exactly what Skylar wants to hear. So, she smiles as she looks at Rachel.

S: "Ok."

And, Rachel smiles back, because she knows that, sometimes, a simple _ok _says a lot more than a thousand-page novel ever could. So, she returns the favor.

R: "Ok."

She takes a few steps forward, locks arms with Skylar, and starts leading her back to the car. When they're seated inside, she turns the engine on, but before they can take off, she turns to her passenger for one final advice.

R: "Oh, and next time you need cash, just remember that asking is a hell of a lot easier."

While Rachel and Skylar are on the road driving to her house, an apprehensive Jamie is standing before a closed apartment door with one raised hand about to knock on it. He has been walking around town since he left Skylar at River Court. Yes, he's still angry. But, more so at himself now. For walking away in judgment of someone he hardly knows. For leaving in distress someone he cares about. He actually turned around and went back, but he was too late. She was already gone. But, there is one thing he can do to help. Even if it means he has to do what he dreads and make a deal with the devil himself. Not even the devil expects this particular visit, so his surprised mind understandably thinks of some tragedy to explain it.

Nathan: "Jamie? Is everything ok? Is it Haley? What happened?"

Jamie: "Everything's fine. Mom's ok. I…uhm…I need your help."

Speechless and frozen, Nathan keeps repeating in his mind what he heard. The few words his son has spoken to him over the last couple of years have been loaded with extreme hatred. So, it takes a moment for him to register that Jamie is there to ask for his help. When his father doesn't respond, Jamie begins to walk away.

J: "This was a bad idea."

The possible loss of this rare opportunity snaps Nathan out of his frozen state.

N: "No, come in. Please. If you came to me, it must be important. I'd like to help."

The estranged father steps aside, opens the door wide, and lets his hesitant son walk in. Nathan moved into that one bedroom condo about a year ago. More specifically, about a week after his wife caught him in bed with another woman. He doesn't remember that moment; but he remembers well coming home the next day to find all his belongings thrown onto the front lawn. Haley had changed all the locks and left him a note taped to the front door. _Jamie and I are in New York City for a week. Do not call us. Find yourself a new place to live. We are officially separated._ His mother, Deb, found him in a dingy motel room after a few days and nights spent high and drunk. It was her who found and helped him rent this condo. The day he moved in was his first attempt at sobering up. Deb had wanted him to check into a rehabilitation center, but Nathan was adamant he could endure withdrawal on his own. He couldn't. Apparently, he hadn't hit rock bottom yet. Which meant that no matter how hard and repeatedly people who loved him tried, he wasn't ready to accept their help. Jamie has known the address for months…one needs to know where his parents live for school forms, permission slips and so forth. But, he has never had a reason to knock on his door. Not until today. He goes only as far as the end of the hallway before he turns hastily to face his father.

J: "I need money and I need you to not ask me why."

N: "Please tell me it's for school supplies."

J: "Not exactly."

N: "Oh my god! Are you gambling? What is it? Poker? Horses? Are you fixing games?"

J: "No, no, and God no!"

N: "Is whatever you're doing illegal?"

J: "No."

N: "Dangerous?"

J: "No."

Nathan takes a deep breath, seemingly satisfied that the worst options have been eliminated.

N: "The fact that you came to me means that Haley would disapprove. Am I right?"

J: "I'd rather not get mom involved. She'd worry for no reason. And, the amount is a bit too high for her to cover."

N: "How much?"

J: "$1,200."

N: "Jesus! Jamie, why do you need that much money? What's going on?"

J: "Look, I'm not in any trouble. I already told you it's legal and safe. I can't tell you any more than that. You just have to trust me. Can you do that?"

He's not exactly lying. Helping a friend is technically legal and safe. Nathan doesn't have to know that the help consists of paying off debts due to stolen drugs. And, that the dealer in question is not what one might call warm and cuddly. As he tries to justify his claims to himself, Jamie walks further into the apartment and reaches the living room. When he looks up, not only his feet freeze but also his entire body. He can't even move to pick up the basketball he drops in shock. The entire place is filled with framed pictures of him, Haley and Nathan. The one taken on the day he was born catches his eye first. The same one has been on his parents' nightstand for as long as he can remember. Haley still keeps it there. There's one from his fourth birthday when they spent the whole day at the batting cages. Another from his elementary school graduation, family ski trip from seven winters ago, of him and Haley in full Bobcats gear cheering from the sidelines during a championship game. Wherever he looks, Jamie sees a deliriously happy younger version of himself smiling back at him. A life he has been too angry to realize how much he's missed until that moment. And, the irony isn't lost on Jamie that the very man who took it away is also the one who now gives him a glimpse into it. Nathan picks up the basketball his son dropped earlier and throws it at him. When it hits an unsuspecting Jamie squarely in the chest, he's swiftly brought out of that glimpse and right back into reality.

N: "Ok. But, you have to pay me back."

J: "Of course I will. I was thinking about getting a part time job and my allowance…if you're ok with a long term payment plan, we can work something out."

N: "I had a different idea in mind. Dinner, the two of us, twice a week for three months. Tuesdays and Thursdays after basketball practice. If you're still as good at math as I remember, you'll see it's a much better deal than paying me back in cash."

Nathan knows that he's basically offering to buy his son's time. Some may say resorting to a form of blackmail forcing Jamie to hang out with him. He's tried giving him space, talking, begging…anything to get him to listen, to give him a chance. Nothing's worked. So, he's willing to try a more unconventional approach. Do whatever it takes for the time to prove that he's changed. He waits in silence as Jamie considers his offer. The teenager knows that he would have to work at some terrible minimum wage job all day every weekend for several months to make that kind of cash. On the surface, a few hours every week where he gets fed is an incredible trade off. But, Jamie can already feel the strings attached pulling at his feet, heart, and mind.

J: "All I have to do is come here and eat with you?"

N: "Yes."

J: "I don't have to talk?"

N: "Not unless you want to."

J: "You'll have to clear this with mom."

N: "I can do that."

J: "Oh and you can't tell her why. And, she has no part in this deal. If she magically pops up at the dinner table one night, the deal's off."

N: "Fine."

J: "Are you sure you can keep this a secret from her? What am I saying? You're a professional liar."

N: "Jamie, do you know how much I want to pick up the phone and call Haley right now? It goes against everything I believe in to not tell her you might be in trouble. Yes, I know you said you aren't. But, people in no trouble, do not need $1,200 out of the blue. Listen to me, I will do this because I trust you. I trust that you have a good reason to keep it a secret. And, I am glad you asked for help. But, let's get one thing straight. It is your secret to tell. Not mine. And, my advice is that you don't keep it from Haley."

J: "Dinner, twice a week for three months…ok. I'm in."

Content that his offer has been accepted, Nathan extends his hand. And, Jamie shakes it officially sealing the deal. When Nathan smiles, it's not only because, for at least two nights a week, he doesn't have to eat dinner alone, but also because this is the longest conversation he and Jamie have had in years without yelling at each other.

J: "So, can I have the cash?"

N: "You need it right now?"

J: "Yes. Have I not made it clear it's an emergency?"

N: "I don't exactly have that much money lying around the house, son. We'll have to go to an ATM."

J: "Ok. Let's go."

As Jamie begins walking down the hallway towards the front door, Nathan yells after him.

N: "You don't want to have something to eat first? You still like turkey sandwiches, right? Maybe just a soda?"

Jamie answers as he exits without looking back.

J: "I said emergency."

After a brief stop at a nearby bank, Jamie asks Nathan to drop him off a few blocks north of River Court. When his one last attempt at trying to get Jamie to tell him what he's up to fails, Nathan reluctantly lets his son out of the car. He intends to wait until Jamie walks away to park and follow him on foot in secret. But, he should have known that his son is too smart for obvious plans. Jamie holds his ground, motions for a frustrated yet defeated Nathan to drive, and actually watches him do so until the car disappears out of sight. He waits for a few minutes to make sure Nathan doesn't double back, and starts walking only when he's convinced that his father isn't following him. As he approaches River Court, his eyes begin scanning the area for Skylar. But, instead, he hears Brandon in a heated argument with Vik.

Vik: "You know the best thing about dumping that whore? I don't have to put up with your fucking bony ass anymore."

Brandon: "The feeling's mutual, douchebag."

V: "The cash…hand it over so this love fest can end."

Brandon reaches inside the back pocket of his jeans and shoves a bundle of cash into Vik's chest. Vik yanks the money out of his hand and aggressively pushes him back a step. When the inevitable count reveals the sum is short of the original price tag, a pissed-off Vik lunges at Brandon. As Jamie sees the dealer grab his cousin by the collar of his jacket with both hands, he starts running to get to the scene before things escalate any further.

V: "Do you think I'm a fucking idiot? I can't count? Is that what you think, pretty boy? I said $1,200. What the hell are you trying to pull?"

Jamie jumps in between the two and pulls Vik off of Brandon.

J: "Back the fuck up! You do _not_ touch him. You hear me?"

V: "Oh, look at that. The bitch sent both her guard dogs to fight her battle. You finally decided to bite, little doggie? Oh wait, this is too good. Is it pretty boy here you're trying to save? What? You two turned to each other when the bitch wouldn't fuck you?"

This time it's Brandon who lunges at an extremely amused Vik taunting them. But, Jamie gets in between the two again before Brandon can reach his target.

J: "Brandon! No! Stay back man. You're giving him exactly what he wants."

V: "Actually, moron, what I want is my damn money."

When he's sure Brandon is calm enough not to try attacking Vik again, Jamie turns around, takes out the cash he borrowed from Nathan from inside his wallet and throws the bills at Vik.

J: "Here is your damn money, asshole. Now go fucking bathe in it."

V: "Well, well, well…now was that so hard?"

J: "You don't come near Sky. Ever again. If I hear you were even a hundred feet of her, I will tell the cops you stole that money. Don't fucking look at me like that! I have the serial numbers. You think I'm kidding? Try me. Please, I beg you. The sight of your ass in jail is fast becoming one hell of a beautiful dream."

V: "Now why the hell would I go near her when I got all I want right here? The bitch's all yours. Congrafuckingtulations. May the three of you live happily ever after. Well at least until Red starts rifling through bathroom cabinets looking for pills to pop."

Brandon and Jamie watch, side by side in silence, as Vik gets on his motorcycle and rides off. Jamie can't help but wonder how much truth there is in that final warning. Brandon, on the other hand, shakes off Vik's parting words, because regardless of what happens tomorrow, at least today's mission is accomplished. Despite Jamie's interruption.

Br: "You didn't have to give him all that money, dumbass. I had already given him $800."

J: "You're welcome."

Br: "For what?"

J: "For saving your ass."

Br: "Saving _my _ass? I had it under control. If you did anything, it was saving that jackass from an overdue beatdown."

J: "In what universe?"

Br: "Do I have to remind you whose fist print is on your chin?"

Brandon and Jamie realize that they've been yelling at each other for no apparent reason other than their mutual frustration at the departure of their common enemy. They both take a deep breath and a moment to calm down.

Br: "I am sorry about that by the way."

J: "Don't mention it. Let's chalk it up a little lapse in judgment, shall we? But if your judgment is tempted to fail again, just know your face will have a matching bruise."

Br: "Fair enough."

After another few seconds of silent and awkward stares, Brandon falls victim to his curiosity.

Br: "Does that serial numbers thing work?"

J: "How should I know? Scared him, didn't it?"

Br: "How did you get the money anyway? Did you sell your soul? Signed it over in blood?"

J: "Something like that."

Br: "But why? I mean, Sky told me what happened when Vik first showed up."

J: "I panicked. Ok? You've never messed up? What he said…it caught me off guard. There are some things going on in my life, with my family…you don't know everything. It's hard to explain why I reacted the way I did."

Br: "But you came back."

J: "What was I supposed to do? Leave her alone to deal with that psycho? No way. I care too much about her to do that."

Immediately regretting that he revealed too much, Jamie picks up his basketball off the court, turns his back and starts walking away. Brandon stands in his place for a moment digesting everything that has happened before he takes a few long and fast steps to catch up to Jamie. Maybe Brandon Walker was wrong about Jamie Scott. There just may be more to him than meets the eye. Maybe, just maybe, his cousin isn't such a bad guy after all. No, they're not friends. Not yet. But, who says they have to be enemies? The last half hour is all the proof Brandon needs that there is at least one thing, one person, they both care about. And, that is a start better than most people get. As they walk together in somewhat comfortable silence, Jamie focuses his attention on the bouncing ball he's expertly dribbling. That is until Brandon decides it's his turn to show good faith.

Br: "Hey Jamie?"

J: "Yeah?"

Br: "Thank you."

"_Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."  
~Rick Blaine, Casablanca, 1942_


	21. Tricks In My Pocket: Part One

_"Yes, I have tricks in my pocket, I have things up my sleeve. But I am the opposite of a stage magician. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion."  
~Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie, 1944_

Why is it that we don't always ask exactly what we want to know? And, rarely find uncensored honesty in the answers? Sometimes, we can know all the facts about someone or around a particular event, but those facts only manage to create an _illusion that has the appearance of truth_. Shroud the real intentions and motivations behind a thick veil of dates, names, and places. And, sometimes, we are comfortable living on the surface among the easily seen and superficially calm. Maybe, it's not comfort, but fear. We are afraid to ruffle what's left intentionally unruffled, search for what's carefully hidden. So, we use those _tricks in our pockets _to camouflage our desires, close our hearts, falsify reality. But the joke is on us…we are the ones who end up short of where and who we wish to be. Only the few of us are brave enough to pay attention to the rumblings from what lies below the surface. Dig up the tension alive in the fragile center, find out what we are really made of, uncover the worth of something before it escapes us. Ask exactly what we want to know and dare to offer uncensored honesty in return. And even then, it may last a fleeing moment, before that inevitable fear takes over yet again.

Brandon Walker is no stranger to living on the surface. But for him, it's not out of comfort or fear, but out of sheer necessity to survive. He's found ways to create his own reality when to see or hear the one life presents becomes too painful to bear. Over the last three years, those tricks have filled not just his sleeves and pockets, but every single corner of his mind. After all, practice makes perfect. So, when he returned from River Court to find Brooke and Lucas waiting for him in the kitchen, his mind did what it's programmed to do…dip into his repertoire of tricks to find a million ways to get out of the impending grounding. It's not like Brandon to follow rules, obey orders or live within the confines of a strict structure. But, standing before Brooke and Lucas that night, that's exactly what he decided to do. Cast aside all the tricks and accept reality as is for once. He did so, because his conscience told him that he messed up. Despite the leather jacket on his back and the chain of cigarettes between his lips, Brandon Walker was raised to know the difference between right and wrong. When he does wrong by someone, he doesn't rest until he finds a way to make it right. Whether his victim is his best friend or sworn enemy. Or in this case, the woman who did wrong by him the second he was born. So, he handed over his phone and retreated to his room.

For the past three days, he's been a good little soldier shuttling back and forth between home and wherever he happens to be working off his debt that day. In the mornings, he runs errands for Brooke for a couple of hours, and in the afternoons, he joins Lucas at the body shop. The heavy workload was his idea. When Brooke objected and asked him to not overdo it, he refused citing that he only had 20 days to work 95 hours. Despite being reminded that her son still intended to leave when his 30-day deal was up, Brooke couldn't help but feel a little proud that Brandon was determined to make things right even if he considered her presence in his life as temporary. Submitting to his due punishment, he eats breakfast, lunch, and dinner at home, and spends his nights reading and writing in his room. Well, most of his nights anyway. He wouldn't be Brandon if he didn't find a way to rebel in between the lines of instructions spelled out for him. Old habits die hard. Spending days and nights conforming smothers him. So, the first night, Brandon found a way to breathe. He climbed down the tall sycamore tree easily reachable from the guest bedroom window and found the lowest part of the wall around the property to climb in and out of. That night, he went to Rachel's house and snuck in the window to see Skylar. He probably wouldn't have dared venture out so far if he didn't have to let her know Vik was dealt with. The second and third nights, he walked down to the beach and watched the waves crash for a couple of hours before he returned home. A few harmless hours spent rebelling. That's all. It was enough to keep him going.

Almost two and a half days in, he still has 80 hours of his sentence left. When he arrives at the body shop that afternoon to work off another four of those hours, Lucas tells him he is loaning him out to Karen to cover Lily's shift. Something about a last minute urgent thing which, knowing Lily, Lucas is sure it isn't really an emergency to begin with. Dropping him off at the Café, Lucas leaves his son in the capable hands of his mother for the day.

Brandon: "So, where do you want me?"

Karen grabs a couple of sodas from the fridge, sits down on a table by the window and pulls up a chair for Brandon.

Karen: "How about right here for a few minutes?"

Brandon takes off his leather jacket and hangs it on the back of the chair before sitting down. He twists the cap off the coke bottle and takes a sip.

K: "I hear you've been pretty busy lately."

Br: "You could say that again."

K: "Lucas told me what you did and how Brooke grounded you."

He's surprised when instead of the lecture he expected, all he gets is what looks like a highly amused Karen leaning back in her chair and enjoying her soda.

Br: "Is that a smile? Are you actually finding pleasure in my misery?"

K: "Misery? Oh, I hardly think so. Besides, you steal, you get punished. That's only fair. The smile…that was more about me remembering something."

Br: "What?"

K: "Your mother. I was the one who grounded her for the first time in her life. She took it just as well as you are taking it right now."

Puzzled, Brandon leans forward and places his elbows on the table. He's had very few opportunities to learn what Brooke and Lucas were like before he came in the picture, so he finds himself extremely curious to hear the rest of the story. But, not wanting to come across too nosy, he begins with a relatively easy question.

Br: "Really? Why you?"

K: "You met Victoria and Richard briefly at your birthday party. They weren't what anyone would call hands-on parents. When they moved to California in her junior year, Brooke lived with me for a few months. It was all your father's idea actually. He didn't want her to move across the country so he got her parents to agree and moved in all her stuff. They weren't even dating back then. I thought it was a very sweet surprise."

Brandon can't help but smile thinking of his father as a lovesick teenager. Apparently the rough-around-the-edges Lucas Scott used to be a hopeless romantic not afraid to go the distance to woo the object of his affection. But right now, he's more interested in the fact that the always-put-together Brooke Davis who seems so fond of discipline had her moments of rebellion as well.

Br: "What did she do to get grounded?"

K: "What didn't she do? God, let's see. She was supposed to come here to the Café to help me, but she went to a party instead. If I remember correctly, she came home drunk and way past her curfew! Oh, not to mention she had already spent the money I advanced her for the work she never did."

Br: "Damn! And, she had the guts to ground me!"

K: "You can't think like that. At the time, she wasn't much older than you are now. Today's Brooke acts exactly like how a responsible parent would. But, she wasn't always the same prim and proper businesswoman. She had to mop the floors just like any other teenager who messed up. I'd be lying if I said I'm not proud. It's satisfying to know some things you teach do stick with even your most stubborn students. How long did she ground you for anyway?"

Br: "She said until the wedding, but I have a feeling I'll be imprisoned forever."

Karen drops her head back and lets out a loud chuckle.

Br: "What's so funny?"

K: "Your mother called it imprisonment, too. She was released when she learned her lesson. I'm sure you will be too."

Br: "I'm not holding my breath."

Karen and Brandon sit in silence sipping their sodas for a while. Both are a little too lost in thoughts to talk. He's wondering why he is too wrapped up in the lives of people he keeps telling himself he's determined to leave behind the second he gets the chance. But, he's not blind to the fact that his determination weakens the further he travels down beneath the surface, the more what's hidden gets revealed, the clearer the blurry picture of the past becomes. If he didn't know any better, he'd wonder if he's beginning to see something worth sticking around for. Sitting opposite from him, Karen is watching her grandson wondering if she should even get into what she's considering asking him. There's something to be said for letting things rest. Not pushing too hard if the probing is doomed to awaken some unwelcome tension or ruffle what's best left untouched. Maybe this is one of those times. But, it seems like a coward's way out to Karen. So, she decides to go for it.

K: "Are you excited about the trip tomorrow?"

Br: "Excited? More like dreadfully queasy. Honestly, the whole thing reads like a pathetic piece of fiction, but it really doesn't matter what I think. I'm just an innocent bystander. At best, a hugely reluctant participant."

K: "Look, I get why you're not so gung-ho about the wedding. You probably think the marriage is some meaningless legal maneuver. And, you know what? It may have started that way. But, I know in my heart that this is exactly what your parents want. Regardless of whether they are ready to admit it to anyone, or even to themselves. I understand that this wedding seems rushed to you. But, to those who remember what your parents were like together, it's late by several unbearably long and agonizingly slow years."

Br: "How can you be so sure?"

She can give him all the facts as far as she knows. She can list the names…names his parents called each other in anger and in love, names of their mutual friends and acquaintances Lucas called while desperately looking for Brooke everywhere, names of the streets he lived on while he moved from state to state. She can count the numbers…number of days, months and years they've been tangled up in each other, how old they were when life gave its most precious gift and then took it away, number of times his father used to wake up screaming drenched in sweat in the middle of the night. She can point to places…places that Lucas never went back to because they reminded him of Brooke or places Karen traveled to over the years because her son refused to come home. Yes, she can give him the facts from her perspective. But, what good would it do? It wouldn't be the truth. At least not the one he's after. That particular truth isn't hers to share. But, she can at least give an answer with as much uncensored honesty as she can muster up.

K: "Because I saw it first-hand how in love they were once and how terribly your father dealt with losing Brooke. And you. I know the love is still there. Whatever happened in those years apart, I believe that how they feel about each other remained intact. All you have to do is look in the mirror to see the ultimate proof of that. You think you're some innocent bystander? No, you're the most important part. The piece that's been missing from their lives all this time. I wish you believed that. I wish you'd give them a chance to surprise you."

When it's clear we're hearing that rare uncensored honesty in an answer, and a genuine desire in a wish that follows, it's impossible to not want to make it happen.

Br: "I'll try. For you."

K: "That's all I can ask. I promise you won't regret it. Now, I have to make a short trip to the stockroom. We're out of chives in the kitchen. But, I'll be right back to show you around. In the meantime, get in proper attire, will you?"

Leaving a confused Brandon behind at the table, Karen gets up and starts walking towards the stockroom. Brandon calls out after her.

Br: "What attire?"

She's almost out of sight down the hallway as she yells her reply without looking back.

K: "T-shirts and aprons are in my office over here. Holler if you need me."

Now behind the counter wearing a black Karen's Café T-shirt and a white matching apron, Brandon is trying to figure out how to open the cash register. As he keeps pressing button after button none of which seems to unlock the damn thing, he's distracted by the front door slamming shut. It's a frantic JJ who runs over in quick steps without paying attention to who's at the counter.

JJ: "I'm late. I know. I'm so sorry. I lost track of time helping dad at the studio. Put me to work, Kar...uhm, you're not Karen."

Br: "What gave it away? These irresistibly wide shoulders or this ruggedly handsome jawline?"

JJ tries to hide her smile as Brandon's hands go from highlighting his shoulders to tracing an imaginary line down his jawline.

JJ: "Conceited much? Oh I know, it was your trademark smug attitude. Hey."

Br: "Hey."

JJ: "Is Karen here?"

Br: "Stockroom. She said something about running out of chives. Wait, was it knives? Or maybe it was hives. Whatever. I didn't know you worked here."

Perplexed at why he's pointing to her chest, JJ remembers she's wearing a matching black Karen's Café T-shirt.

JJ: "I don't anymore, but Karen did give me my first job years ago. The T-shirt's left over from the last time Lily asked me to cover for her. Today's emergency was a 911 text and that usually means one of two things…cheering or Cris. Since school's still out, it has to be boyfriend drama. What are _you_ doing here?"

Br: "Covering for Lily. Or so I thought."

JJ: "I guess she never got my text that I'd do it. How's it going anyway?"

Br: "Great. I love slaving away at my very own sweatshop."

Coming out of the stockroom carrying a couple small boxes of spices, Karen catches the end of their conversation.

K: "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Br: "What I meant, oh lovely master, was that I'm having a blast learning the ins and outs of café management from a true expert. I'm forever grateful for the apprenticeship, Karen. Thankful, really, more than I can say."

JJ: "Huh, I had no idea hives came in that box."

Confused, Karen looks at the teenagers first, and then, at the boxes she's carrying. Brandon and JJ snicker but cover quickly. When Karen finds out that JJ had also offered to take Lily's shift, she sees it as an opportunity to delegate Brandon's training and gets the reluctant youngster to agree to stay for as long as it takes to show him the ropes. As Karen goes back to the kitchen, JJ walks around the counter to put on an apron, grab a pen and an order pad. She can't help but laugh when she notices Brandon still fiddling with the cash register. She walks closer and leans over to hit the red button on the side and mocks him.

JJ: "Is Mike Tyson having trouble with machines? Sometimes, you have to be gentle, tough guy."

Br: "Ok. I deserved that. Jamie and I worked that out by the way."

Brandon watches as a shocked JJ gasps, turns around, and walks towards the nearest window. She leans forward with her face almost pressed against the glass and stares up in the sky. He follows her and looks up, but all he sees are a few clouds in a perfectly blue sky.

Br: "What? What are you looking at?"

JJ: "Oh, just wondering how the hell I missed pigs buzzing around in the air this morning."

She turns to him with raised eyebrows and a smirk that says _gotcha_. She smiles as she starts walking back to the counter, and he sighs and looks down briefly before he follows her again.

Br: "Which one is more surprising? That I apologized or that he accepted?"

JJ: "Do I have to pick one? Come on rookie, you've got much to learn."

For the next hour, JJ tries to teach a novice Brandon the basics of working at Karen's Café. They start with where everything is and continue with the intricacies of waiting tables including Karen's table numbering system, what to recommend on the menu, helpful tips on how to remember who ordered what and how to get the kitchen staff to favor his orders over the other servers. Most of it feels like a long list of do's and don'ts to Brandon and JJ reassures him that he'll get the hang of it with practice. When she learns early enough that there's no use in cracking the whip, she just leans back amused, and sometimes, even out-loud laughing. Especially when Brandon trips for no apparent reason spilling two plates of perfectly good mushroom risotto all over the floor. Since it's clear Brandon's inner waiter isn't ready to come out yet, JJ attempts to lure out the inner barista instead. She demonstrates step by step how to use the espresso maker and watches him follow her instructions to make his very first cappuccino. Nervous about being watched, Brandon tries to distract his audience.

Br: "So, where does one go for fun in this town?"

JJ: "Well, Karen has open mike nights right here every Friday. Do you sing, Brandon?"

Br: "Hell no. Not even in the shower. Do you?"

JJ: "I'm not the next Pavarotti, but one does pick up a few tunes growing up with parents in the music business."

She grabs a new bottle of skim milk from the fridge, pours a few ounces in a cup and hands it to him to steam.

JJ: "There's River Court. Sometimes we hang out there in the evenings especially if the boys are playing. That's enough steaming, don't you think? Oh, and Blue Post is great if you like playing pool."

Br: "Blue Post, huh? I'll have to try that."

Pouring the steamed milk on top of the espresso with plenty of foam and sprinkles of chocolate powder, a tense Brandon hands the cup over to JJ and waits for her reaction.

JJ: "Yummy. Nicely done, rookie. You've just graduated to full on barista."

Br: "That's it? I feel so cheated. No cap and gown? No diploma?"

JJ: "If it's a ceremony you want, it's a ceremony you'll get."

Brandon sees a hint of a mischievous smile before she turns away to grab the milk bottle again. When she returns, she clears her throat and stands tall and extremely serious.

JJ: "Brandon Lucas Walker, would you please lower yourself on one knee."

Br: "On this floor?"

She rolls her eyes and leans forward to whisper in his ear.

JJ: "Just go with it, will ya?"

It's almost impossible to not play along when a determined JJ asks you to do something. He's even tickled by his curiosity over what she's up to. So, he slowly and reluctantly kneels down on one knee. She speaks in an unusually formal manner as she taps him on both shoulders with the bottom of the milk bottle in her right hand.

JJ: "By the power vested in me by…well, Queen Karen the First, I dub thee Barista. And I bless you as you embark on this next stage of your life. May the string of delicious lattés and cappuccinos continue for as long as your arms and hands may bear it. Arise, Sir Brandon, Barista of Karen's Café!"

Brandon starts chuckling the second he hears _Queen Karen, _and the more he tries to stay solemn and stoic for the pseudo knighting, the more he giggles. When he finally rises, having found his calling, JJ joins him in laughter too. The moment is cut too short when she leaves him behind to attend to a group of customers waiting to be seated by the door. It's not even a minute later when she hears an ear-scratchingly high-pitched squeak which makes everyone in the Café turn around and stare at the source of the sound, the espresso maker. The machine pipes sound like they implode in series of loud bangs and thuds that end in a small metal being darted across to the corner of the room and a black cloud of something seeping out of all the steam wands. One second, JJ can hear Brandon yell "_Fuck me!" _and the next, he's barely visible in the smoke. So, she immediately drops the menus in her hands and runs over to help Brandon.

JJ: "Brandon! Are you ok?"

Br: "Yes, but I can't say the same for this rusty, defunct piece of shit!"

When the black cloud begins to dissipate and JJ can finally see him, she plops down on the floor in a fit of laughter. With furrowed eyebrows, a furious Brandon is aimlessly banging on the machine unaware that the smoke has settled on his skin turning his face, arms and hands pitch black.

Br: "I'm so glad I could entertain you. What the hell is so funny JJ?"

The commotion brings Karen out of the kitchen and she can't decide if she should join JJ in laughter or get mad at the mess her grandson has made.

K: "What happened here?"

Br: "I have no idea! The damn machine went loco!"

He's not exactly lying. Brandon has no idea what happened, because while in the midst of steaming a cup of milk, he got distracted by a customer flirting with JJ. The moment he saw the guy place a hand on her waist, a sudden burst of jealousy made it impossible to pay attention to even the scorching hot steam on his hand. The initial squeak came only a split second after he angrily yanked the cup breaking a handle or a button or something else he doesn't remember. The bangs and the thuds followed. No, he doesn't exactly know what happened. But, he's also not willing to reveal that his immature coveting is probably to blame. Still on the floor laughing, JJ can barely take a breath to chime in.

JJ: "Karen, I...I can vouch for him. He was fine...just fine with the machine a second ago."

She manages to stand up and hands to Karen the metal part she picks up from the corner.

JJ: "This came flying out of the machine before the whole black smoke thing happened."

K: "I'll take care of it. Brandon, go clean up."

He practically runs to the bathroom cursing at the wind. And, when he comes out with a moist paper towel rubbing his still partially black face, he finds an extremely amused JJ leaning against the wall waiting for him.

JJ: "Hey there, smokey. Feeling better?"

Br: "How mad is Karen?"

She exhales deeply and takes a step forward. An anxious Brandon wonders what she's doing as her hand reaches forward taking the paper towel from his trembling hands. She gently turns him around by the shoulders and guides him back into the bathroom. She asks him to lean against the sink, and starts wiping the smoke residue off his right temple.

JJ: "You missed a spot."

She moves in such a casual way that it's clear she's oblivious to the intoxicating effect she has on him. Their faces barely a dozen inches apart, her hand on his shoulder is the only thing keeping him steady. All he can do is stand there and remind himself to breathe and not stare. But, honestly, neither is easy to do. He opens his eyes and all he sees is the subtle sun-kissed glow on her skin. He takes a breath and all he inhales is the light scent of flowers in her short brown hair. While she speaks, she keeps her focus on rubbing his left cheek.

JJ: "She's not mad. But, we've been reassigned to the stockroom. She wants me to show you how to do an inventory check."

Br: "Great. I'm banished from the public areas. Probably better that way."

JJ: "Yep, who knows what you'll blow up next? We don't want you scaring away any more customers now, do we?"

Br: "You're enjoying this just a tad too much. But, just wait. They say karma's an equal opportunity bitch."

For the next few seconds, he silently watches her work on his face until he gathers up enough courage to ask what he's been wanting to since she walked in the front door.

Br: "We're ok, right? You and I?"

She slowly brings her arms down to her sides and looks at him quizzically.

JJ: "Why would you ask that?"

Br: "At the party the other day…what I said about your parents…"

JJ interrupts him mid-sentence and manages to confuse him even more with what she says next.

JJ: "No, don't. _I _need to apologize to _you_ about that. Look, I still think you were mad to talk to my parents like that. And, don't ever do that again. But, I talked to mom after and let's just say I understand you better now. Maybe not everything about you, but I see that there just might be a method to your madness."

JJ's words come completely unexpected to a shocked Brandon who had been gearing up for another round of apologies. He curses this God forsaken town for causing him to say he's sorry more times in the last ten days than he has ever had to in his entire life. But, that has to wait. Because, JJ seems to have information he doesn't, yet desperately needs.

Br: "What did your mother tell you?"

She takes a deep breath and sits down by the sink next to him.

JJ: "What happened years ago. It's a long and complicated story, Brandon. And, I'm sure I don't have the whole thing. It wasn't exactly pleasant listening to it. There was some yelling, mostly from me. Crying, from her. It's therapeutic, you know? To find out our parents are human just like us. They make mistakes too. It doesn't matter anyway. I can't be the one to give you answers, Brandon. Not about this. If you have questions, you should ask your parents. And, I really wish you'd do it soon."

Yes, she can tell him more. Give him names, dates, and places…all the facts from her mother's perspective. But, what good would that do? It wouldn't be the truth. At least not the one he's after. If they are to dare venture down beneath the surface and survive the trip in one piece, together, then there can be no falsifying reality. No avoiding the tension. No fear. Yes, JJ can tell him more. But, one of the things she knows now is that what happened between their parents years ago is too heavy of a burden for the two of them to bear right now. It's too early to look below. Especially when they haven't yet found their footing on the supposedly safer surface. So, she chooses to fix that first.

JJ: "The point is I overreacted that night. I heard you yelling at mom and my protective instincts kicked into high gear. You tried to explain on the beach, but I didn't really listen to you. I didn't know anything then. I chewed your head off for making judgments without having the facts and I did the same thing to you. I am sorry about that."

When a silent and pensive Brandon remains staring out at nothing but the empty air, JJ gently nudges his shoulder with hers.

JJ: "So, is my apology accepted yet?"

Br: "Well, under one condition. I don't know if you heard yet, but Brooke and Lucas are getting married."

JJ: "Lily told me. Congratulations."

Br: "I wouldn't pop the champagne just yet. It's still a couple of days and, if I'm right, a series of mutual freak-outs away. There may even be a bookie somewhere taking bets on if it actually happens."

JJ: "Freak-outs and champagne…sounds like a blast. Just my kind of party."

Br: "I'm so glad you said that. Why don't you come with me?"

JJ: "Brandon Walker, are you asking me out?"

Br: "No! I mean it's a group thing."

He averts his eyes and responds quickly as if he's on autopilot. But, the lack of eye contact and the slight crack in his voice screams how nervous he is. Amused just the right amount, JJ decides to keep him in the hot seat just a little bit longer.

JJ: "Hmmm…a group date?"

Br: "What? Well…uhm…it doesn't…I mean it could, but…you probably…huh…I wasn't…oh, hell!"

She smiles as she watches him stammer through some incomprehensible speech without an end in sight until she decides to save him.

JJ: "Relax, I'm just messing with you. Lily told me how a bunch of people are going to Myrtle Beach for the wedding. I know that's what you meant. But, I don't know if me being there is a good idea. It's your parents' special day, and honestly, I couldn't be more toxic if I were the devil's daughter."

Br: "That's not true. Brooke's ok with you coming. It was her idea actually."

JJ: "Huh."

Br: "I mean she suggested it first, but I wanted to ask you, too. Look, I completely understand if you don't want to come. But, I have to do something and I'd really like you to be there. You know, for moral support?"

JJ: "What is it? Best man duties?"

Br: "No. Well, that too, but this is something else. I'll tell you about it when we get there. So what do you say?"

What Brandon doesn't want to reveal is that his plan is to drive the hundred miles from Myrtle Beach to Charleston. More specifically, to the bank with his mother's safety deposit box so he can finally open her final gift. And, possibly find Brooke's letter. That is what he needs the moral support for. But, to say all that now, to admit that he's about to ruffle what's been left unruffled for so long, to search what's been carefully hidden for years…he's not ready for anyone to know that yet. Sometimes, the journey to the fragile center is a solo mission, until we're ready for some company. The mystery intrigues JJ who's learning fast that it's not so easy to say no to Brandon.

JJ: "I'd love to."

Both with a wide and content smile on their faces, they look at each other for a few seconds until JJ remembers the paper towel in her hand. She stands up and returns to wiping off the last few black spots on Brandon's face. This time, it's Brandon who volunteers to sit in that inevitable hot seat fishing for information.

Br: "The wedding…what if it was a date? What would you have said? Your boyfriend would probably be pissed."

JJ: "No, uh-uh. No cheating. You'll have to really ask to find out."

She drops her hands to her sides and leans back to look carefully at his face. Luckily, she's too focused on her cleaning job to notice Brandon's frustration over her not biting the boyfriend bait. When she's sure she's got all the smoke out, she smiles.

JJ: "There. Not that I don't appreciate you getting dirty, but it's nice to see your handsome face again."

And, with that one simple compliment, his usual confidence quickly replaces the nerves, and he smiles back.

Br: "You think I'm handsome?"

She gently slaps his shoulder before she throws the paper towel in the trashcan.

JJ: "Don't let it go to your head, smokey."

Br: "That's Sir Smokey to you."

Since she starts walking towards the door, Brandon can't see the wide grin on her face while she answers him.

JJ: "Oh, really? Now can Sir Smokey get up off his lazy ass? Cause I don't have all day."

Br: "As you wish my lady."

Brandon and JJ spend the next few hours in the stockroom going over what type of inventory goes on which shelf in which aisle and reviewing the supply chain software on the computer. When their shift is over, he reminds her of the wedding trip the next day and she offers to drive so the younger gang can travel together. After all, roadtrips are supposed to be much more fun without the parental units in the car. They arrange a time for her to pick him up in the morning. When he finally gets home an hour later, he's still running through the events of the day in his mind with a faint smile on his face. That is until he finds Brooke and Lucas waiting for him in the kitchen.

Br: "What now? I came straight home. You still have my phone. I swear nothing was stolen today. At least not by me."

Lucas: "That's good to hear, but take a chill pill, Robin Hood. We're not your prison guards. Actually, we have some good news."

Reluctant to believe them, Brandon slowly walks into the kitchen and takes a seat on a stool at the counter.

Brooke: "You're no longer grounded. Let's call it time off for good behavior. Despite the unsanctioned nightly extracurriculars. You know, the tree hugging and the wall climbing?"

Br: "You know about that?"

B: "You're not as crafty as you think you are. And, we're definitely not as stupid as you think we are."

Rachel caught a glimpse of an unaware Brandon sneaking out of Skylar's bedroom window the first night. Her first phone call was to a disbelieving Brooke. When checking his room proved her friend right, figuring out how her son got in and out of the house wasn't that difficult. After all, the young Brooke Davis would have found the sycamore tree quicker than the young Brandon Walker did. The angry part of her wanted to wait for him in his room, but then she remembered that young version of herself and decided to wait to see if the disobedience would turn into a recurring phenomenon. The next night, Brooke and Lucas pretended to go to bed but secretly waited to see if Brandon would sneak out again. When he did, Lucas suggested they confront him right away, but something told Brooke to just follow him instead. When they saw that all he did was sit on the beach and think in silence for a couple of hours, they both decided to let it be. Someone intent on not learning his lesson would have found something a hell of a lot less productive to do with that prized stolen time than to seek comfort in the solitude of a dark ocean. They were willing to accept two hours of harmless rebelling.

Br: "But, I'm still off the hook?"

B: "Yes."

Br: "Really? What's the catch?"

L: "Just use the front door next time. And, not in the middle of the night."

When Brandon's expression tells her that he's still hesitant to believe them, Brooke hands him back the phone she confiscated the minute he returned from River Court three nights ago.

B: "Lucas already hooked your TV back up and your computer's also back in your room."

Br: "Ok. So, that's all? I can come and go as I please?"

L: "Within curfew, but yes."

Brandon puts his phone in his jacket pocket and getting up off the stool, starts heading towards the staircase. Halfway down, Lucas's question stops him, so he turns around.

L: "How did it go at the Café?"

Br: "Terribly. I don't think Karen's going to ask me to go back anytime soon."

B: "I sucked on my first day too. Give it time."

Br: "Yeah, well…how many plates did you break? Better yet, how many coffee machines exploded all over you?"

L: "That bad, huh? You'd better stick to the body shop, son."

Br: "At least I learned that I make a mean cappuccino. Well, if I can keep the machine alive for more than a minute. Oh, and JJ was there. She agreed to come on the trip tomorrow. She's picking me up in the morning."

What he really wants to say is _her mother told her about your past and I really wish you'd tell me_. But, this is neither the time nor the place for that conversation. So, without waiting for a reaction, he turns around and starts walking towards the staircase again. This time it's Brooke's voice that stops him.

B: "Hey, wait up. How about we go out for dinner? We all had long days at work. Besides, we should celebrate the end of your imprisonment. Not that we ever need a cause to celebrate."

It makes Brandon smile to hear Brooke refer to his grounding as _imprisonment_, just like Karen told him earlier. He is hungry and he wouldn't mind getting out of these four walls for a night. So, he goes along with the suggestion.

Br: "I can eat."

L: "Why don't you pick the place? Anywhere you want."

There is some place he'd like to try that comes highly recommended. He gets the feeling that he and Lucas in their T-shirts and jeans would fit in just fine, but Brooke isn't quite dressed for the occasion. Trying to find the least insulting way to express his concern, he turns to Brooke.

Br: "I know just the place. But, is there anything less…uhm, fashionable, in your wardrobe?"

While Lucas lets out an unintentional cackle, a perplexed Brooke looks down at her white satin pantsuit, and then, back up at her son.

B: "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Br: "Nothing. It's just that you're a little overdressed for what I have in mind. Well, a lot overdressed actually. You own a pair of jeans, right?"

B: "A few actually."

Br: "And it's not some rule your hair has to stay up in that unnaturally tight ponytail all the time?"

When Brooke crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him half-annoyed and half-mockingly, Brandon begins to think that he may have possibly pushed things a step too far.

B: "Keep this up, smartass. I am seriously considering revoking your parole."

L: "All right, all right. Why don't you both go do whatever you have to…like change into jeans? And, we'll meet down here in fifteen minutes. Come on, don't just stand there."

Brandon's the first to leave. When he's at the bottom of the staircase, Brooke remembers he hasn't told them where he wants to take them yet.

Br: "Where are we going anyway?"

They watch as Brandon, without stopping, keeps going up the steps and disappears out of sight. But, they can hear his voice yelling down at them with the answer.

Br: "Some place called Blue Post. You know it?"

The name freezes both Brooke and Lucas. And for a minute, they remain staring at the empty staircase after their son. Yes, they know it. They remember the facts...the address, the name, what's inside. But, the truth is much harder to know and painful to remember. _Some place called Blue Post _is a part of what makes them who they are. Correction, what makes them who they used to be. Some may say the place where they began. The place they had their first date. The place they began showing each other for the first time a little bit of what lies under the surface. A misunderstood Brooke Davis hinted that she had more layers to her than anyone ever imagined. All she needed was someone who dared to get close enough to peel them back. And, a straight-shooting Lucas Scott revealed that he could be just as carefree and impulsive as the next guy. All he needed was someone, a partner in crime, to ask him with one irresistibly enticing look, a laugh, a kiss. A long time ago, at _some place called Blue Post, _they both found exactly whom they needed. So, no, maybe they don't know the place. Because, it's not a place to be known. It's a place to be felt. Breathed. Touched. Lived. And, if there exists an alternate reality stuck in a time loop somewhere in the billions of galaxies in our universe, then that misunderstood girl and that straight-shooting guy are still there living it. All of a sudden, the rumblings from beneath the surface get deafeningly loud to ignore. And, standing speechless and motionless, Brooke and Lucas begin to wonder whether they may just be lucky enough for those two usually-worlds-apart realities to finally collide tonight.

"_There's a world of difference between truth and facts. Facts can obscure the truth."  
~Maya Angelou, 20__th__ century American post_


	22. Tricks In My Pocket: Part Two

**Author's Note: ** A quick clarification on the story timeline: today is August 13, 2021. And a warning: this chapter is the longest I've written so far. So, pour a cup of coffee and read when you have some serious free time. Hopefully it won't disappoint. Enjoy!

"_Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken."  
~Jane Austen, 18__th__ century English novelist_

It's an uncomfortably silent car ride that brings them to an inconspicuous alley entrance. While Brandon stays behind by the parked car to take a call from Skylar, Lucas and Brooke stand side-by-side staring at the closed front door. Completely still. Absolutely wordless. And, downright terrified. Not that they'd admit that to anyone. How they ended up in this same spot back in high school starts flooding in upon their senses. _I read a book, you do something for me. _Lucas wonders if he could have pretended to get lost on the way or take a few detours to delay this very moment. It's going back to places like this that made him move from state to state since Brooke left all those years ago. _Something fun, deal?_ People leave taking the truth with them, but the places stay tricking the memories of the departed to remain trapped within the walls forever. Brooke wonders how the cut-throat businesswoman the long years taught her to be transforms into this feeble little coward threatened by the mere thought of crossing some silly threshold. _Okay, deal._ Yes, she changed. But, just her clothes. Blue jeans and a black, long-sleeve, off-the-shoulder top. Yes, she let her hair down. But, it's not like her confidence went out the door with the pantsuit or what her son called an unnaturally tight ponytail. Or did it? _Should we shake on it or just make out now? _

Suddenly, the door opens from the inside and the loud music and indistinct chatter seeps out startling them. A slightly tipsy young couple stumbles out in each other's arms and they step aside to let the careless lovers pass. Staring behind the couple walk away giggling and making out, they are distracted by a stern voice.

Bouncer: "Are you two just gonna stand there? I said, in or out?"

Brooke looks at the bouncer with a blank expression, and then, over at Lucas. It looks like their eyes display the same fear and reluctance. But, it must be a mistake. For all they know, they must have read each other wrong. Because, neither believes that the other can be as shaken by the distant past as they seem to be. After all, it's just a stupid bar behind a stupid door. To admit that it's anything more requires that they ask for the truth and speak with uncensored honesty for once. Unfortunately, neither has faith that the other is ready for that. So fast come the tricks, the disguises among the easily seen, and that dreaded return to the superficially calm surface. And, they nervously smile at each other.

Lucas: "In. We're coming in."

While Brooke looks over at Brandon who's still on the phone heavily engaged in a conversation she can't hear, Lucas is the first to walk inside. Before she follows, she points to her son and turns towards the bouncer.

Brooke: "The kid's with us."

Sometimes, time forgets to alter a certain place. Against all odds, it remains unchanged. Timeless, really. And sometimes, it's just a cruel trick our minds play on us. We look and see what we want to see. The changes blur away, the differences fall in the background, and we pick up on only those that feel familiar. To Brooke and Lucas, the place feels exactly the same. It's jammed with a loud, young crowd…groups of guys stopping in after their weekly basketball game, a few adventurous urbanites, couples coming in to catch up with their friends, and on-the-prowl singles not-so-discreetly checking each other out. Yet, the unpretentious attitude always finds room to squeeze in one more person. Drinks flow freely from the bar to the tables and couches scattered about dimly-lit corners. The action gets louder around the dart boards and the pool tables. And, after surveying the room, that's where Brooke and Lucas's eyes stop. More specifically, at a young couple playing pool. The sight looks familiar. Reminiscent of another from many years ago. Not physically. The girl is a tall blonde and the boy is a skinny brunet. No, it's more about the way they look at each other. Nervous yet relaxed at the same time. She laughs mischievously at his discomfort when their bodies get a little too close while passing by each other. He leans against the pool table shaking his head surprised that he's actually enjoying himself. And, the sight brings a faint smile across both Lucas and Brooke's faces. Just enough to make them forget, for a split second, that this right here is someone else's present. And, not really a glimpse into their tortured past.

L: "First date."

B: "Wonder what book she had to read."

The realization that they've both been watching the same couple makes their heads turn to look at each other, but the moment's cut too short when Brandon interrupts them. He walks in between the two, stops to check out the place, and with a wide grin on his face, rubs his hands together.

Brandon: "Now _this_ is my kind of place."

He walks across the room towards an empty table, but stops when he notices they're not following him. He turns around, walks back to stand before them, and waits for a few seconds. When Brooke and Lucas remain frozen in their stand, he throws his arms up in the air in frustration.

Br: "What? Too loud? Too dark? Too dirty? You wanna go somewhere else?"

A part of them does. Run out and never look back. But, it's like someone has nailed their feet down on the floor locking them in. Can't go forward. Can't go back. Neither is able to find the words to explain how or why. So, they both just stare at Brandon.

Br: "What the hell is wrong with you two? You haven't said one word since we left the house. Should I be concerned? Let me remind you how this thing usually goes. You two yack away non-stop and I tell you to shut up. Remember now?"

Squinting her eyes, Brooke brings a hand to her right ear trying hard to hear something. She turns to Lucas and pretends to need his help.

B: "Lucas, I think I hear something. Yeah, I do. Could it be our son sassing us?"

L: "Yeah. Yeah, I think it is. Huh, who'd have thought?"

Bringing her hands to her hips, Brooke turns to face Brandon. She tilts her head to the side and smiles.

B: "Nothing wrong with a little role reversal now and then, wise guy. Keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

Br: "Whatever. Let's eat."

Rolling his eyes, an annoyed Brandon starts walking back. Somehow more relaxed, Lucas and Brooke follow him towards the table. Brandon's presence is exactly what they need to remind them that this is no trip back in time. They don't have to dig up what they hid deep below, ruffle what's left unperturbed for so long. No need to look below for the intentions of the past. They can remain right here in the present, on the safe surface, and focus on this moment with their son. Not long after they all take a seat, an attractive waitress in her early twenties approaches to hand them the menus. While a confident Brandon attempts to flirt with the waitress, Brooke and Lucas watch him a little embarrassed, but mostly amused.

Br: "Why don't you surprise me? I'm sure I'll love anything a pretty girl like you brings me."

Lucas motions for Brooke to join him in leaning back in their chairs so they can give Brandon some semblance of privacy in his endeavor. As he cringes watching the fruitless flirting, he leans in closer to Brooke and whispers in her ear.

L: "He's got no game. _My_ son has no game whatsoever."

Brooke lets out a chuckle, but covers quickly. Still watching her son's interaction, she leans in and whispers back.

B: "So he takes after you."

And just like that, the low whispering is over. Lucas sits up, turns to face Brooke, and objects.

L: "I _have _game!"

B: "Please! We're talking off the court, Luke. It's ok. If I remember correctly, having no game was a part of your charm. And before you claim you were intentionally pretending to be clueless, we both know you're not that sly."

Before Lucas can say anything, Brandon leans forward and interrupts them.

Br: "What are you two talking about? Can you please stop embarrassing me for a second?"

B: "We? Embarrass you?"

Waitress: "Ok. Why don't the parents here order for the kid instead?"

Brandon's hand goes for his heart while he looks back up at the waitress with hurt eyes.

Br: "Ouch! There I was thinking you liked me."

B: "Somehow I know you'll bounce back, Casanova. Just ask your father over here."

Brooke gathers all menus from the table and turns to the waitress.

B: "Burgers all around. Fries. Mountain Dew for the incorrigible womanizer. This supposedly-too-cunning-for-his-own-good one will have a Stella. And, bring me your biggest cup of chocolate milkshake. Please. Thanks."

Smiling wide, she hands the menus back to the waitress. After watching her leave, an annoyed Brandon turns to his parents. What he sees is a disbelieving Lucas shaking his head and a smiling Brooke staring back at him.

Br: "Ok. What the hell happened between you two?"

L: "Not much. Except, she just called me clueless. Oh, and apparently, I have no game. "

Br: "You mean you didn't know that already?"

Brooke winks at her son, and turning toward Lucas, she reaches a comforting hand to rest on his arm.

B: "Lucas, relax. Don't you see? It means there's hope for Brandon too. Good news overall."

Br: "What hope? What are you talking about now?"

B: "Nothing for your gorgeous head to worry about."

L: "Oh you don't get away that easy. Brooke thinks you are just as clueless. Apparently we both suck at this flirting thing."

B: "Lucas!"

She slaps him hard on the shoulder erasing that smug smirk off his face. While his hand reaches to rub the pain off the point of impact, her anger fuels the mockery she had been willing to leave behind for their son's sake.

B: "Tattling? Really? What's next? You'll pull my hair? Steal my crayons? Look around you. We are not in kindergarten! By the way, the second you said _this flirting thing_, you became hopeless."

Br: "Wait, who are you to judge anyway?"

Brooke sighs and leans forward. She rests her elbows on the table and her chin squarely on her hands. There's a calm and confident smile on her face when she replies.

B: "You're one to talk, mister. Is JJ talking to you or not? Didn't you say she's coming to the wedding? Come on, admit it. My advice worked."

Br: "Ok. It worked. This once. It doesn't exactly make you an expert."

L: "Oh son, at least I know when to fold. Stick with Brooke. No one knows the game better."

Yes, there used to be a time when no one played the game better than Brooke Davis. Once she set her eyes on someone, nothing could stand in her way. _Hey handsome, three more chapters and you're all mine. _With a few suggestive looks and raspy laughs, the object of her desire became putty in her victorious hands. If these four walls around them could talk, they'd bear witness to the fact that Lucas Scott was no exception. _You having fun? Mmm-hmm, I'm glad we did this._ But then, Brandon Walker happened. And, Brooke got blindsided by an utterly unexpected meaning, a purpose, in life. The games stopped being fun. In fact, she hasn't played in so long that, sometimes, she's not even sure she remembers the rules. Despite having written most of them herself. For the first time in years, the pages of her old game book come alive. Maybe it's sitting next to Lucas in this bar. Maybe it's having that purpose, Brandon, back in her life. For a second, she feels like that young, fun-loving Brooke without a care in the world. And, it doesn't go unnoticed by Lucas or Brandon. First, their drinks arrive. Then shortly after, the burgers. While they eat, they talk briefly about the departure times for the trip to Myrtle Beach the next morning. Brooke notices her son frequently looking to the left at a group of college kids failing miserably at playing pool. Before she can say anything, she gets distracted by Brandon starting to blame the jukebox for the lame 80s music reverberating off the walls. Loving that it gets a reaction out of his son, Lucas intentionally exaggerates his defence of the era declaring it as possibly the most creative ever.

L: "You have to be dead inside not to like U2! Beastie Boys? Depeche Mode? What about The Police?"

Br: "All right. I see your Police, and I'll raise you Lionel Richie. Heck, who's Lionel when you can have Milli freaking Vanilli? I rest my case."

After a heated pseudo debate, Brooke helps them find the middle ground in that, good or bad, the 80s at least created the catchiest tunes yet.

B: "Tell me you can't dance your cute butt off or sing along to…let me see…Girls Just Wanna Have Fun? Ok, maybe that's a little too girlie for you macho men. How about Livin' on a Prayer? Deny all you want, but I'll bet anything you know every word."

When Brandon looks to the left again and tries to hide a smile, it's obvious to Brooke that he's still eavesdropping on the conversation at the nearby pool table. And, it's crystal clear to her why he is so highly entertained by what he hears.

B: "Hey! Stop it."

Br: "Me? Stop what?"

B: "What you're thinking."

Br: "You're a mind reader now?"

B: "You'd be surprised how familiar I am with how your mind works."

Brooke's confidence intrigues Brandon, so he leans forward to inquire.

Br: "Tell me Yoda, what am I thinking?"

B: "How easy it would be to take their money. You can practically see yourself talk them out of it, right?"

A wide-eyed Brandon is caught off guard when Brooke's guess is right on the money.

Br: "Shit!"

B: "Language! There will be no hustling tonight."

Br: "Whatever you say Jedi Master. Now if you could step outside my head for a minute, I gotta go to the bathroom."

Shaking his head at how Brooke figured him out so easily, Brandon gets up off the table but she's too quick to grab his arm stopping him.

B: "You had better really be going to the bathroom. Don't let me catch you finding new prey in the back room."

Br: "All right, all right. I'll be right back."

He frees his arm, walks away from the table and mumbles under his breath.

Br: "Geez, who brought the fun police?"

As Brooke sighs staring at her son disappearing into the back room, Lucas can't help but smile. He looks over at the guys at the pool table and back at Brooke.

L: "You were thinking the exact same thing, weren't you?"

There's a hint of surprise and guilt in Brooke's eyes when she meets his. And, it confirms his suspicion. Then, she turns over to the left and quietly stares at the pool table in question. When she begins speaking, it's in that particularly low raspy tone that always manages to penetrate deeper than any other he's ever heard.

B: "I could play a little tipsy, rash with money, downplay my skills, oh I don't know…miss a few cues early on. Maybe even let one of them beat me first. I'd blush a little, tilt my head…"

Lucas watches her as she tilts her head to the right, letting her auburn hair fall to the side exposing her bare neck and shoulder. And, all of a sudden, he becomes utterly fascinated by her. Everyone and everything else turns a blurry shade of gray…and there remains in the pulsating middle a deep crimson Brooke, the only alive and breathing sight in miles.

B: "…play with my hair and giggle."

She teasingly twirls a lock of hair around her finger, and giggles in a playfully flirtatious manner. And, just like that, he's transfixed. Without realizing, his left hand moves slowly to reach out to her. There's no free will. No self-control. No plans. There's only pure instinct. Unstoppable necessity. Innate desire. Just as his fingers get close enough to graze her neck, she snaps her head up and spins around to face him.

B: "You know, flirt some, stroke his ego, and beg for a chance to win back my money."

As he wonders if he was able to pull his hand back swiftly enough, he scrambles to find a composed enough face to not give away what he'd been thinking. A completely unaware Brooke rolls her eyes, smiles wide, and shrugs.

B: "Boys are so easy. He wouldn't know what hit him. Pigeons I tell you. Pigeons ready to be plucked."

Somehow, she finds the one thing that she could have said to put him at ease. After all, he was one of those unsuspecting pigeons once, right here in this bar. And, it turns out she hasn't lost her touch when it comes to spellbinding him.

L: "I _love_ beating boys at pool."

B: "You do?"

L: "_You_ told me that once. Here. Well, right over there actually."

Brooke's eyes follow his gaze and, for a few seconds, they both end up staring in silence at the second pool table a bit further in the room. _I didn't know you could shoot pool. There's a lot you don't know about me. _It's a peculiar thing to come full circle. Maybe they're back in this place as two complete strangers once again. Despite everything they learned about each other, she wonders if there's anything this Lucas Scott really knows about who this Brooke Davis is. Or maybe, even after so many years apart, he can still read her better than anyone. When the pull from beneath the surface becomes too powerful, she's the first to break the stare and get serious.

B: "That's not me anymore. Well, at least not in front of the kid. _Someone_ suggested I try being unusual for his sake."

Her playful manner returns quickly as she nudges him with her shoulder. But, Lucas sees right through it. So, he looks her straight in the eye with as much determination as he can muster up.

L: "I never meant for you to not be yourself. I wouldn't change a thing about you, Brooke."

It's the most earnest and resolute look Brooke has seen in Lucas's eyes since they saw each other again in Karen's kitchen. And, the unwavering sincerity makes it impossible to look away. It's a liberating feeling to hear someone say they accept us as we are. All that's good and bad or right and wrong about us. No, not just accept, but genuinely prefer that flawed version to some perfect fantasy. And, God's honest truth is that she wouldn't change a thing about him either. The mutual gladness of that realization lasts only a fleeing moment before the inevitable fear kicks in. Brooke Davis isn't ready for that kind of honesty yet. So, she does what she's always done when the rumbling from beneath the surface gets a little too loud for comfort. The pretend smile camouflages her real desires behind an all-too-familiar thick veil.

B: "Look, I haven't played in years. It's not like I hustle for a living. Besides, I have a different target in mind."

L: "What are you up to?"

With an up-to-no-good smirk, she gets up and turns once around herself surveying the room. When she spots Brandon perched at the bar handing something to the waitress from earlier, she starts shaking her head.

Br: "Predictable much? It's my fault, really. I should have known."

She grabs a confused Lucas by the arm and starts dragging him towards the bar in quick steps.

L: "What's going on?"

B: "Can't leave him alone for a second! Come on Luke, we have parenting to do."

When Brandon sees them approaching, he tries to disappear; but it's too late.

L: "Where do you think you're going?"

Br: "I was just coming back to the table. Is there a problem?"

While Lucas blocks Brandon's way, Brooke demands answers from the waitress.

B: "Tell me you weren't about to serve a minor."

The waitress remains silent as she hands to Brooke what Brandon gave her a second ago. When Brooke looks down at her hand, she's too stunned to decide if she should get mad or laugh her head off.

B: "Henry? Seriously? You actually thought they'd believe you're 38?"

While Lucas tries unsuccessfully to hide a snicker, Brandon feigns innocence and shrugs.

Br: "If the picture fits…Relax, it was just a damn experiment. No harm no foul."

An irritated Brandon turns his back at them trying to gauge how much damage control he has to do. Brooke takes the opportunity to shoot a quick glance over at Lucas, whisper a barely audible _follow my lead _and wink. When her son turns to face them again, she has already settled back in her angry parent pose.

B: "Why don't you try the truth instead? I can't believe you! Just wait till we get home, there will be hell to pay!"

The exaggerated reaction confuses Lucas at first, but then it dawns on him that she must be laying the groundwork for that different target she said she had in mind earlier. So, upping the ante on the pretend fury, he plays along.

L: "You're brave. I'll give you that. I mean Brooke and I are two steps away and you try using a fake ID! I'm beginning to think we were too hasty in terminating your grounding."

Now ticked off himself, Brandon's quick to point out the irony as he scoffs at Lucas's suggestion.

Br: "Well, aren't you being a little hypocritical, Henry? I did find the damn thing in your room."

L: "So, you're admitting to stealing it from me!"

B: "Let's see, the first case of thievery caused you three days, the second will cost you double."

Br: "Unbelievable! I didn't even drink one sip!"

While a frustrated Brandon bangs a clenched fist on the bar, Brooke is content that her plan seems to be working. Lucas sees her lips curve up briefly in a triumphant smile before she turns serious again and innocently slips in the punchline.

B: "I'll play you for it."

Br: "Play what?"

B: "One game of pool. If you win, we wipe the slate clean and forget this fake ID thing ever happened."

The challenge interests a puzzled Brandon enough to wonder when the unavoidable catch-22 will hit the block.

Br: "And if you win? Not that hell has any plans to freeze over today."

Lucas watches as Brooke and Brandon remain frozen staring at each other for a few seconds. It's finally time to reveal what she's after. The ultimate reward she has so expertly been setting the scene for. The best can keep their calm with their faces perfectly in character as the moment of truth arrives. Nothing to lose. Everything to gain. One blink of an eye can reveal hesitation. What's on the line is too important to leave room for such weakness. So, there is not one hint of indecision or fear when Brooke speaks. There's only clarity and conviction.

B: "That 30-day deal…it gets extended to 60 days."

Br: "No fucking way!"

B: "Forget it. I knew you were all talk back there. You probably don't even know how to tell the cue ball from the eight ball."

Br: "Such amateurs! You think you can rile me up with that? Just so you know, I play just fine. But your terms are hardly fair. A week spent grounded versus 30 more days stuck with you? I'd have to be the world's biggest idiot to fall for that trick."

L: "What trick? It sounds pretty straightforward to me. Unless you're actually afraid you'll lose to Brooke."

Br: "I can shoot blindfolded and still pocket all before she gets a chance at the table. Hell, you can team up with her if you want and I'll still crush you both."

B: "So, what's the problem?"

Brandon steps back and takes a moment to calm down. As the heat of the moment dissipates, Brooke can see his expression change ever so slightly. It feels like if she squints hard enough, she can see wicked little wheels turning in her son's eyes. A part of her wonders if it means he's falling for the con. But, deep down, she knows that's not it. A whole new game's about to start, and it's anyone's guess who's playing whom.

Br: "None whatsoever. You're on."

As if on cue, one of the pool tables becomes available, and it doesn't take long for Brandon to notice it. An amused Lucas and a confused Brooke are left behind watching him walk over to claim it.

L: "Well done, sensei."

B: "Don't you think he folded a little too easily? One second he's all _no way_ and the next he's running off to grab the pool stick. Something doesn't feel right."

L: "Brooke, you can win, can't you?"

B: "Yeah, but…"

L: "Let's just go before he changes his mind."

When they reach the pool table, they find Brandon waiting for them impatiently. Having already grouped the balls in place and removed the rack, he hands them each a pool stick. An excited Lucas still can't make sense of why Brooke seems so worried. That is until Brandon suggests adding one more twist to the terms of their deal.

Br: "How about we raise the stakes?"

Brooke leans her back against the table waiting for that dreadful other shoe she's been expecting to drop.

B: "How high?"

Brandon motions for Brooke to take the break shot and she nervously takes her place at the head of the table. When she leans forward to shoot, Brandon finally reveals the real reason he was so eager to play all of a sudden.

Br: "You tell me. How high is the truth exactly?"

The question makes Brooke lose all concentration that she doesn't even see which, if any, of the balls she sinks when she breaks. Stakes don't come higher than the naked truth, do they? She stands back up, swallows hard, and looks over at Brandon. Wasn't she the one asking him to try the truth just a few minutes ago? When she can't answer him, Lucas jumps in. 

L: "What did you have in mind?"

Br: "I pocket, I ask. You pocket, you ask. Nothing but the absolute truth in return. Can you handle it?"

It takes Brooke and Lucas a few moments to respond while they nervously look at each other. Is it possible to be eager and hesitant at the same time? To ask for what we really want to know and answer with uncensored honesty? But, nothing is as simple as that, is it? Despite re-entering their lives fifteen days ago, this is the first time Brandon Walker has dared to demand the truth. And, it doesn't matter whether Brooke or Lucas are ready to share. The new game is set and there's no other choice but to play the hand they've been dealt.

B: "Ok."

L: "Ok."

Br: "Ok."

Having turned the table on his parents, it's Brandon's turn to sport a victorious smile.

Br: "Still your turn."

Taking the easy shot sending the ten ball into the side pocket, Brooke gets the first opportunity to ask a question. The nerves return suddenly, so despite all she would much rather know about her son, she finds herself blurting out the first unthreatening thing that pops into her head.

B: "What's your favorite color?"

Br: "Black."

L: "Figures."

Br: "Yeah? What's yours?"

B: "I believe we have the table. Wait your turn. Your shot, Lucas."

After sinking the thirteen ball into the corner pocket, Lucas decides to follow Brooke's footsteps and play it safe.

L: "Do you play any sports?"

Br: "Seriously? You realize these are pretty lame questions, right? I mean you get a chance to ask me anything you want. I cannot lie or I forfeit. And, you ask me freaking colors and sports? What's next? You want to know my favorite bedtime story too?"

L: "What about _wait your turn_ did you not understand? Answers, son. Not questions. Now, do you play any sports?"

Rolling his eyes, Brandon leans against the wall behind him and pushes the pool stick from one hand to another.

Br: "Fine. Not anymore. I used to surf and I played soccer in middle school. Striker. I wasn't half bad."

Despite having grown up in a beach town, Lucas has never been on a surfboard. And, he has trouble remembering if he's ever touched a soccer ball in his life. He gets visibly upset for having dedicated his teenage years entirely to basketball leaving no room for other activities that could have been quite useful in bonding with his son now.

Br: "What? Wrong answer?"

B: "No, of course not. It's just that Lucas here is more of a basketball guy."

Br: "Oh, I get it. Deep down you always thought your son would become the next all-star point guard. You'd shoot hoops together? You'd burst with so much pride when he gets drafted into the NBA? There it is! The face of crushed dreams, ladies and gentlemen!"

L: "No, that's not…"

Br: "Sorry to disappoint, man. I've never even once held a basketball. I don't think genetics works that way. Gotta be the whole nature versus nurture thing. Dad is…_was_ a surfer. Maybe you should have picked a basketball player to pawn me off to."

While a dumbfounded Brooke watches things unfold, Lucas tries to get in a word to no avail. There's no stopping Brandon. He keeps yelling without even realizing that his almost-hysteria is gathering more than a few spectators.

Br: "You're still young. You could have another kid. This time, keep him. You know, raise him right. You could buy him matching basketball pjs. Why stop there? You could even…"

L: "Shut up! Just, shut up! You're impossible, you know that? I thought you said you wanted the truth. Jesus!"

Brooke walks closer to Lucas and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. When he calms down a bit, she walks past him and stops before Brandon.

B: "Look, Brandon. All I meant to say was that Lucas probably knows nothing about surfing or soccer. That's all. I can't speak for him, but personally, I am impressed. Well, now, I'm just mad, but a minute ago, I was impressed. And, trust me…I held plenty a basketball in my day and it made zero difference. I sucked just the same."

L: "And, if you saw any disappointment on my face, it's because I'm disappointed in myself. I racked my brain trying to think of one famous surfer or soccer player. No such luck. You know what? Forget all that. What you don't get is that it doesn't matter anyway. How we feel about you has nothing to do with what sports you play. You can be an Olympic athlete or refuse to pick up a ball, any ball, and we'd love you just the same."

B: "See? There's no such thing as lame questions when Brandon Walker's the one answering."

Placing herself between the two boys, Brooke stands on her toes and puts one arm over Brandon's shoulder and another over Lucas's. Hoping to end the quarrel in peace, she smiles playfully at both of them and changes the topic.

B: "Ok, that's enough fighting. My turn to play. Number twelve, side pocket, bank shot."

When she misses by a fraction of an inch, Brandon takes over the table and quickly sinks his first ball. Brooke and Lucas take a deep breath bracing for Brandon's question.

Br: "What happened the last time you two saw each other? I mean before I knocked on grandma's door that fateful evening."

Before Lucas can figure out the right response, Brooke answers right away. No pause. No hesitation.

B: "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Br: "Bullshit! We agreed. We said, the absolute truth."

B: "February 28, 2017. Parking lot at Charlotte Memorial. Nathan was in the hospital after his accident and we were both there to see him."

Brandon's disappointed that he hasn't quite hit the bullseye at first try; but one glimpse at Lucas tells him he may not have wasted the question after all. Lucas looks confused as he replays that day in his head wondering how he could have missed Brooke's presence at the hospital.

L: "But, Haley said you had left. You saw me?"

B: "You were just arriving and I was on my way out."

As Lucas walks slowly closer, his eyes display such a curiosity over what could have been that it's difficult for Brooke to not avert her eyes.

L: "Why didn't you stay? Say something?"

At that moment, four years six months and four days ago, that's all Brooke wished she could do. Stay. Say something. Having profusely apologized to Haley, she had left her side only a few minutes earlier when being around Jamie reminded her too much of the son she had given up. As she was about to get in a taxi to head for the airport, she began feeling enormous guilt for letting her pain matter more than that of Haley's. So, she decided to be there for her friend, shut the taxi door and turned back towards the hospital entrance. That's when she saw him. She opened her mouth wanting to call for him, but no sound came out. She wanted go after him, but her legs refused to move. Instead, all she could do was watch him get out of the cab, run up the steps, and disappear into the hospital. There may have been a tear or two she wiped away. It didn't even take more than a few short seconds. Sometimes, that's all it takes for a broken heart to start beating again. To ache with such intensity that it feels like it may pierce right out of our chest. And, the only remedy is too quick for capture. But, that particular truth is not for Lucas to know. At least, not yet.

B: "Better remember the rules of the game, Lucas. What was it you said about waiting your turn? I believe the table belongs to our son. For now."

Pocketing the five ball off the left bank with ease, Brandon remains in control of the questions.

Br: "What is the most impulsive thing you've ever done?"

Lucas smiles as he looks down and leans his pool stick against the table. _So, what's your take on tattoos? _His left hand pulls his right sleeve up exposing the tattoo on his shoulder. _I don't know…it depends._ Squinting his eyes, Brandon walks forward to get a closer look.

Br: "What is that?"

L: "Brooke, you wanna fill him in?"

B: "It's supposed to be an ancient symbol for fun. But, for all we know, we got played at the tattoo parlor, and it says something like Cher Forever or I don't know…Eat Me."

As a riled Lucas stares at her demanding of an explanation, she can't help but let out a deep chuckle.

B: "I'm just messing with you, Lucas. It says fun…probably…99.9%. I'm pretty sure."

Br: "So, you were there when he inked his arm?"

Shaking his head, Lucas lets his sleeve roll down and grabs his cue stick again.

L: "She was there all right. It was _her_ idea."

B: "Funny. It's not like I dragged you kicking and screaming."

L: "Yeah, but not many first dates end in a permanent reminder."

Br: "First date? Now, this I gotta hear."

L: "Not so fast, young man. You shoot first, then we'll see if you get to ask."

With the added motivation, Brandon has no trouble sinking another ball in the corner pocket.

L: "You don't miss, do you? Ok. First date. We were about your age. We talked, laughed a little, played some pool. At that table over there actually."

Br: "_This_ is where you had your first date?"

L: "Yeah, Brooke brought me here."

Br: "So, _she_ asked _you_ out?"

L: "Not exactly. She read a book for me, and in return, I agreed to do whatever she wanted."

B: "Lucas, we said we'd be honest."

L: "Fine. You already know about the tattoo. There was some drinking. Hence the Henry ID. Also, Brooke's doing. And, some grounding afterwards."

Br: "Damn! One little book caused all that ruckus? Now I really need to know which book."

Brooke looks down with a faint smile, bites her bottom lip and closes her eyes.

B: "Does anyone ever know even the outer fringe of another? What are you like in there? Mary, do you hear? Who are you in there?"

Lucas can't believe that Brooke remembers the book well enough to quote from it. He was never really sure if she had actually read it before this moment. The truth is she did. Not just then, but so many times ever since that she could probably quote something from every page. As tragic as the story may be, it's always been a rare reminder of happier, lighter days.

Br: "The Winter of Our Discontent. Steinbeck."

L: "You've read it?"

Brandon nods his head and shrugs his shoulders before he leans down to take another shot. This time, his number four hits the striped fifteen which sends his five ball squarely inside the side pocket. Brooke and Lucas look at each other both a little resigned to their fate that they'll be at the receiving end of the questions until the table clears. The kid is much better at this game than Brooke imagined when crafting this little con. Turns out they just might be the ones getting played.

L: "Where did you learn how to play like that?"

Br: "Uh-uh, I believe the rules prohibit asking in advance. It's still my turn. Let's see. What is your biggest regret?"

There's a moment of silence as both Brooke and Lucas look down. Not because they don't know the answer. No, they can each pinpoint the exact slice of time they would take back if given the chance. Finding the courage within to share that truth with their son is the real problem. Keeping his eyes on the bar floor, Lucas tries to save Brooke from the agony of going first by stammering through his answer.

L: "A long time ago, before you were born…I…uhm…I said something…in the heat of the moment. We were fighting…God, I can't even remember what we were fighting about. And it just came out. Six dreadful words. Stuff nightmares are made of. Have you ever looked back at what you said and thought how much of an idiot you used to be? I'm not sure which author once wrote that the pen is mightier than the sword, but he had no idea how true that was."

He looks over at Brooke while he continues.

L: "I believe that the words plunge so much deeper than any knife ever could. I know that to be true. I know that what you can't take back…what you can't un-speak, can change your life forever. That moment, those words, are my biggest regret."

While Brandon wonders what six words could possibly have that kind of power, Brooke knows exactly what Lucas is referring to. _Get an abortion and it's done_. They didn't just change his life. They forever altered both Brooke and Brandon's as well. Words like that are unforgettable. No matter how much time passes. Brooke looks away trying to digest what she heard and when her eyes meet Brandon's, there's a stillness, a serenity, to her gaze.

B: "Mine is easy. My biggest regret is a life without you. I knew it the day I made the decision to give you up, I knew it the day you were born, and I've known it every single day ever since."

Visibly touched by her answer, Brandon stands staring at an emotional Brooke who's slowly walking closer to her son. Stopping only a few feet before him, she smiles softly and looks directly into his eyes.

B: "But, here's the silver lining to that regret. It's mine. Not yours. Without it, you wouldn't be the amazing young man you are today. You wouldn't have had the Walkers, two wonderful parents, who raised you better than I could have ever hoped. I believe that who we are gets shaped by all the good and the bad that happens to us along the way. Listen to me carefully, because I want you to really hear this. I wouldn't change a thing about you, Brandon."

That is how the full weight of this supposed game of truth strikes Brandon hard in the chest taking his breath away. As he averts his eyes and takes a step back to steady his footing, Brooke acknowledges his sudden need for space and backs off. When she turns around, she finds Lucas smiling at her. She knows it's because she used the same words he did earlier when talking about her. In some way, the sentiment gets paid forward in the best way possible. And, she smiles back at him confirming that her choice of words is no coincidence. Startled by the sound of another ball shot straight into the pocket, they're both a little surprised that Brandon recovers so quickly from the truth train crashing into him. But, that's the thing about crashes. When the dust settles, two options appear. Remain lying down and accept defeat. Or get right back up and keep going. And, nothing keeps Brandon Walker down.

Br: "Were you in love with the blonde? Peyton?"

L: "I thought so once. A long time ago. I found out I was wrong."

Br: "How?"

L: "I fell in love. And all of a sudden, the difference was as clear as day."

Br: "But, isn't it the truth you were with Peyton when Brooke was pregnant with me?"

L: "No, it's not the truth, Brandon. It's a fact. A physical proximity to someone. One of a million useless, irrelevant facts. Is that what you want? Or are you after the real truth?"

Br: "What is the damn difference?"

L: "Everything. Facts have a nasty habit of getting in the way of the truth. Here's what you need to know. The part of me that has ever really mattered has always been with Brooke…before, during, and after she was pregnant with you. That is the truth. Everything else is just white noise. Mistakes. Regrets. Forgettable facts. None of it means anything without the truth."

Finally realizing that he's gotten louder and more animated with every word…every word that Brooke has also heard, Lucas stops, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Not because he's said more than he's willing to reveal. No, it's because he suspects it's more than Brooke is ready to hear. His chin drops and he instinctively turns his head to the side, not quite ready to face her yet. Maybe it's best that way, because all he'd see would be a completely frozen Brooke. Sometimes, that's the only reaction we can come up with in the face of uncensored honesty. The sound of Brandon hitting one more ball into the pocket leaves no time to mull over the obvious tension.

Br: "Don't you think it's your turn, Brooke? I mean pops here is bearing his soul, but you're keeping mum about the whole thing. Why don't you tell us how you really feel about this upcoming wedding? Don't forget, nothing but the brutal truth."

Struggling to free her mind to concentrate on Brandon's question, Brooke stutters and mumbles something incomprehensible.

B: "I…I…I'm…uhm…the noise…wedding. Wait, what…the question?"

Br: "Oh here we go. We lost her."

B: "No, I…uhm, ok. The wedding, you wanna know how I feel about it?"

Br: "Bingo."

B: "I…well, I think that it's the right thing for all of us right now."

Br: "I didn't ask what you think. I asked how you feel."

B: "I feel…good. Yes, I feel good about it."

Br: "That is such a cop-out. But, I guess _good _is technically a feeling."

B: "Does that mean you accept my answer, Your Highness? This whole thing is becoming a little ridiculous by the way. I'm beginning to wonder if you're cheating. No one gets this many shots in one after another."

Just as Brooke finishes her sentence, Brandon shoots the last solid colored ball into the corner pocket.

L: "Ok, now you're just showing off."

Br: "Nothing but pure talent here! You prefer I miss on purpose?"

B: "Unbelievable!"

Br: "All right. Here's what I'll do. You get my turn. One question. Use it wisely."

Brooke and Lucas look at each other nervously wondering who is wiser until Lucas gives her the nod to go ahead. There's only one question that either is desperate to know the answer to anyway.

B: "What do we have to do? I mean do you think you could ever…"

Brooke pauses for a moment to recompose herself, takes a deep breath, and pushes the nerves down out of her way.

B: "Can you see yourself staying? With us…here?"

Br: "I don't know."

Brandon doesn't have to think about it. He doesn't flinch or pause. It's the straightforward honest truth. Not that he would have volunteered it any other time. But, that's exactly what he's demanded of them all evening so it's only fair he offers it in return. When Brooke looks over at Lucas, she sees the same faint smile gracing his face signaling that he appreciates the bumpy road of progress as much as she does. After all, they started the night at an impossible _no-fucking-way _and somehow ended up at a promising _I-don't-know_. Short of a miraculous _yes _that neither expected, this is the best-case scenario. The moment's interrupted when Nathan calls for the third time in the last hour so Lucas excuses himself to take it outside.

L: "Keep playing. I'd much rather prefer this torture's over when I get back."

Brandon leans down aiming for the final black eight-ball on the table and a powerful shot sends it right into the side pocket ending the game. He puts the cue stick back in its resting place and walks closer to Brooke. Leaning his back against the table, he crosses his arms over his chest. Brooke's sigh of relief proves premature when he asks his final question.

Br: "Do you still love him?"

Her eyes go quickly for the door making sure Lucas isn't anywhere near enough to hear them. When she catches a brief glance of him walking out the door, she exhales deeply and returns her attention to Brandon. _Honesty_, she reminds herself. What's so scary about the truth anyway? Does it still not exist even if she never says it out loud? She can keep running, but roads seem to be circular. All ending up back in the same place. Leading to the same answer. To the one man. And, if there's anyone she can't lie to, it's the one standing before her right then. So, she leans against the table next to him and looks directly at his inquiring face.

B: "Yes. And, I probably always will."

And, just like that, Brooke starts laughing. Genuine. Loud. Unstoppable. It's partly due to the arrival of the preordained…the lightness that comes with finally stating the ultimate truth. And partly, the realization that she had so foolishly handed over the reigns to the new sheriff in town, her son. Sometimes, even the best hustlers get hustled. Apparently, no one is immune. Not even Brooke.

Br: "You ok?"

B: "Yeah, it's just funny how pigeons never see it coming."

When her laughter dies down, she turns to face Brandon with a relatively more serious expression.

B: "Hey, let's just keep what I said between us, ok?"

Br: "Ok."

B: "Thanks. I'll be right back."

As Brandon watches Brooke disappear into the back room, he begins to wonder what to make of everything he learned that day. About the way his parents feel about not only each other, but also him. He knows he doesn't have the whole picture. Not yet. Maybe he never will. And, that's ok. Because the more he learns about the past, the easier living in the present becomes. That's the beauty in the ugly truth. Once we know, good or bad, we can stop questioning, second-guessing, assuming. Put things where they belong and find perspective. Not necessarily forget, but, more importantly, move on. To our future. That's the question in Brandon Walker's mind now. What does the future hold? The search for the answer has to wait, because Lucas returns. His grin tells Brandon that he's happy the game's over.

L: "Where's Brooke?"

Br: "She went that way. She said she'd be right back, but it's been a while."

L: "I'll go check on her."

Lucas starts walking towards the general vicinity of the direction Brandon pointed towards, but he doesn't really have to look for her. As if on auto-pilot, his feet know where to take him. Because, if he were the one missing, there'd be only one place he would be. And, that's exactly where he finds her. _Come here._ The alley room where they first kissed. She's a barely visible silhouette dimly illuminated by a handful of rice paper lanterns hanging low from the ceiling. It's the second time that night that he feels transfixed by her. This time, all he can do is watch her move like a graceful shadow towards the brick wall and place a hand on it so slowly that she is afraid it will vanish if she touches it. A brief moment of silence signals the change of song on the jukebox. And then, a familiar melody fills up the room.

_Every breath you take and every move you make  
Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you_

She closes her eyes and lets her arm drop to her side. Twirling around swiftly, she leans her back against the wall. Lucas wonders if she's imagining the last time her warm body rested against that very same cold surface. _What do you think of this tattoo? _Just like before, the urge to reach out to her overwhelms him. So, without thinking, he begins walking until he's merely a few inches in front of her. _Mmm, that tattoo is very, very sexy. _He leans down slightly and lets his right hand push against a spot next to her shoulder on the wall. _Right answer._

_Oh can't you see you belong to me?  
How my poor heart aches with every step you take_

Maybe she sees him there despite her closed eyes. No, not see, but rather feel his presence. Or maybe, what comes next is only a remembrance of a time long gone. Her body possessed by the soul of the teenage girl she used to be. Possibly even wishful thinking that if she reaches out, she would find him there waiting for her. Sometimes, wishes do come true. She leans in and finds his lips.

_Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace  
I dream at night, I can only see your face_

Her arms tight around his waist and his hands cupping her face, they deepen the kiss until all the pent-up passion threatens to devour them. They part briefly and pause to catch their breath. Afraid that it's all a dream, they both refuse to open their eyes. Instead, he simply rests his forehead on hers lovingly. And, when they kiss again, it's slow and sensual. Like they can challenge the dream to become the reality, the past to merge with the present, the actual to beat the memory. Just as long as they keep their eyes closed and lips entangled.

_I look around but it's you I can't replace  
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace_

And, that's exactly how their son finds them. Eyes closed and lips entangled. Not wanting to spy on his parents any more than he already has, a shocked Brandon first hides behind the wall and then quickly retreats back into the front room. Fortunately, his presence goes entirely unnoticed by Brooke and Lucas who only have eyes for each other. She is the first to break the crucial rule. She makes the mistake of listening to that incessant warning from inside that keeps getting louder. She opens her eyes. And, the second she realizes that she's been kissing _the_ Lucas Scott, in flesh and blood right in front her, she gasps and jumps back. Her body slipping out of his hands snaps Lucas's eyes open as well and the first thing he sees is Brooke running out the emergency exit.

L: "Brooke! Stop! Please!"

_I keep crying baby, baby please_

But, she keeps running slamming the door shut behind her. When Lucas finally snaps out of his trance and follows suit, he finds her not more than a few steps out the door. Astonished, she's staring up into the sky like it's the first time she sees it. Not unlike how he stares at her now. He quietly approaches to stand next to her and follows her gaze up. Painted in a thousand amazing shades of pink, red, purple, and blue, the night sky is bright with silent flashes of light. _I love it in the summer when there's heat lightning at night._ They both stand there watching the sky in awe thinking that the universe couldn't have picked a better way to convey its message. And, it couldn't have come louder or clearer, even if only one of them is ready to hear it.

L: "March 4, 2017. New York City. You had just come out of your office onto a crowded sidewalk."

Confused, Brooke breaks her stare on the sky and turns to look at him. And, he does the same.

L: "That's the last time I saw you."

B: "Why didn't you say something?"

L: "You were with someone. A guy. He had his arm around your waist and you looked happy."

Brooke looks down trying hard to remember that day, that moment on the sidewalk. She searches in the corners of her eyes to catch a glimpse of him across a busy New York street.

B: "March 4th…it was my birthday."

L: "I know. Your thirtieth. I followed you two to a restaurant. I saw your friends inside surprise you. I watched you for a while. From the outside, of course. You cut the cake, drank some champagne, laughed a little, danced with him. I wondered if he was the Brandon from back when…"

B: "Wait, what? Brandon? What do you mean?"

L: "It doesn't matter. What matters, Brooke, is I should have come in. Just like you should have stayed at the hospital. Do you know why I was in New York? It wasn't a random trip or some lucky coincidence. Haley told me you had been in the hospital and I had to see you. Simple as that."

B: "Lucas, please."

When she takes a step back ready to run away again, Lucas immediately reaches for her hands tightly grasping them with his.

L: "Please what? What shall we do now, Brooke? Shall we walk away just like we did then? I'm not asking you to go back. I'm asking you stay right here with me. God! After everything that happened, we are here. Together. And, I'm not walking away. Not this time."

B: "Then I will."

She yanks her hands away from his and begins to walk back towards the door. Livid that she's choosing to walk away once again, he yells after her.

L: "_You_ kissed _me_!"

She stops right before the door and, with one hand on the handle, utters an almost inaudible response.

B: "I didn't kiss _you_."

More enraged now that she dares to deny what he knows to be the truth, his voice gets thunderous.

L: "What? I imagined it? Drop the act, Brooke! In there, less than a minute ago, you kissed me!"

And, that is the end of calm and collected Brooke Davis. She snaps back with such fire that her voice matches the thunder in his. Every hurried and defiant step she takes brings her dangerously close to him again.

B: "That wasn't us, Lucas. Don't you get it? We got caught up. It's this damn place! Everywhere I turn, it reminds me of who we used to be. For a split second, I wanted to breathe free like I used to then. Let go like I could then. The kiss was just a re-enactment of some washed-up memory from a distant past when everything was so much easier."

L: "Were you in on the same kiss?"

Calmer now that the anger is out of her system, she sighs and averts her eyes. Taking a step back, she establishes that ever-so-needed space between them.

B: "Stop making more of it than what it was. A momentary loss of control. It didn't mean anything."

When Brooke lies, it's the eyes that give her away. That's why she has to look away when she says that. But, it doesn't change anything. Lucas already knows the error in that statement. It was Brooke who pointed it out to him a long time ago. _A kiss always means something. _That's how he knows she doesn't believe in anything she said any more than he does. But, there's something else he also knows. No one pushes Brooke Davis to do anything she doesn't want to do. All he can do is be patient while she moves at her own speed. She faces the truth when she's ready. Not a second before. As she turns around to walk back in the bar, it's clear that moment hasn't arrived yet.

B: "I'll go get Brandon. Meet us in the car."

And, just like that, she disappears leaving him alone outside. He remains staring at the door separating them for a moment before he turns his eyes back up at the sky. Is it possible to awaken the tension asleep in the fragile center only to put it back to sleep again? Lay back down to rest what's been ruffled after many years of uninterrupted tranquility? Find that long-awaited desire of our hearts, yet turn around and hide it down the darkest, deepest well we know? Can we discover the worth of something and forget it right away? Figure out what we are really made of but go on living less than who we should be? What do we do when the safe surface collapses and we smash head first into the unbridled truth? No camouflage. No illusions. No tricks in our pockets. Lucas Scott knows full well that is exactly why the weight of uncensored honesty comes in the form of crushing fear. What he doesn't know is that he's not alone under that weight. Brooke Davis is right behind that door separating them, leaning her back and head against it, trying to get rid of the very same thoughts crowding her mind, body, and soul.

_"If all hearts were open and all desires known - as they would be if people showed their souls - how many gapings, sighings, clenched fists, knotted brows, broad grins, and red eyes should we see in the market-place!"  
~Thomas Hardy, 19__th__ century English novelist_


	23. The Heart Has Reasons

**Author's Note: ** Alas she's alive and kicking! My sincere apologies to those who've been patiently waiting for this new chapter. I've been traveling across the fantastic Mexico studying the language and culture so I haven't had a chance to write lately. We're finally beginning the long-awaited wedding trip; so think of the next series of (probably six) updates as parts of one long chapter. One more thing…I need your help picking a song for BL's first dance. May or may not be as husband and wife. I'm not saying if they'll actually go through with the wedding. Anything can happen! Ok, so I'm taking requests. It can be a classic or a new song. Please keep in mind the lyrics when making your suggestions. I'll tally up the votes over reviews and PMs as we get closer to the moment. Thanks in advance for the suggestions! It seems I saved the best for last…happy birthday, Dawn! I know this is weeks late but better than never, right? Oh, and of course, happy belated Valentine's Day everyone! If you're reading this from Mexico, Cuba or Guatemala, please let me know.

"_The heart has reasons that reason cannot know."  
~Blaise Pascal, __Pensées__, 1670_

Human heart. Is there anything else in the universe small enough to fit in the palm of one hand yet holds an immeasurable ocean of emotions? That ever so frequently succeeds in the hostile take over of our mind, body and soul? Like it's an organ of unstoppable fire turning to ash all in its path. An endless canvas embroidered by passion. Sorrow. Affection. Animosity. Obsession. Adoration. Vengeance. Faith. Deception. Forgiveness. Pain. Loyalty. And, above all, or maybe merging all, love. The all-consuming kind. For a parent, a child, a friend, a lover. Like a _baffling ailment_, _a delightful malady_. Not one of us is immune. There is no cure. Once we catch this _most desirable sickness, _the prognosis is uncertain. In rare cases, we get a lifetime of bliss. Like we finally understand the only sane and meaningful reason for our existence. In most cases, we fall beyond the force of gravity into madness. And, find, on the dark and lonely bottom, unbearable torture that smashes the illusion leaving only ugly scars spilling from the cracks of our shattered hearts. Yes, we're all somewhat jaded by the terrible odds favoring the inevitable crash. But the heart doesn't know how to shut down. It falls willingly. Plummets, really. Frightened and exhilarated. Every single time. No use trying to stop it. No place far enough we can hide for safety. No other option than to surrender and pray, that against all odds, someone will catch us.

Brandon Walker is one of the fallen. It wasn't romantic love that left his heart broken and his mind scarred. Sixteen years ago, the day he was born, he took a plunge…no, more accurately, he was pushed down a perilous cliff. Yes, pushed by the same people who were supposed to catch him. Looking back, he believes that he had been lucky then. Instead of the dark and lonely bottom, he ended up in the loving arms of two people who kept catching him time and again. Until they vanished too. That's when he found out that there is no such thing as a lifetime of bliss. It's just a dirty trick. First, you lose what you love, and then, you suffer in the unquenchable hunger that remains. Now, he's in a car together with three people who are just as familiar with having their hearts broken by those they love. No, it's not romantic love that has scarred Jamie, JJ or Skylar either. Not yet anyway. Maybe, they are too young for that. Maybe, it has less to do with age than with timing. That's the beauty of youth; it feels like there's all the time in the world to figure it out. So, this morning, they can just focus on the task at hand…making sure the best man gets to the wedding of his parents in one piece. Unaware that it's the first time her passengers are together since the Vik incident, JJ can't figure out why the awkward silence has dominated over the few words exchanged since they started driving about an hour ago. She tries to start up a conversation more than once, but no one bites. Looking at the rear-view mirror over at Brandon and Skylar on the back seat, she makes it clear she won't stand for it.

JJ: "Ok, that's it. What's wrong with you guys this morning? I refuse to be associated with the most boring roadtrip the world has ever seen."

Brandon: "The world? Aren't you being a little dramatic?"

Skylar: "Could be worse. We could be stuck in traffic."

JJ: "I knew I should have insisted Lily come with us."

Br: "Where is she anyway?"

JJ: "She and Cris didn't want Karen to drive down alone. Hey Jamie, text her for me? Ask her for a good car game."

From the passenger seat, an uninterested Jamie keeps staring out the window as he scoffs at the idea.

Jamie: "What are we? Five? You wanna play _I spy_?"

JJ: "No, idiot. That's why you're asking Lily. She'll come up with something fun."

While Jamie takes out his phone and sends a text to Lily, Skylar leans forward to get closer to JJ.

S: "Can we stop for breakfast? I'm starving."

JJ: "Me too. I don't think there's much around here, but I'll pull over the next place we see."

S: "Cool."

J: "Oh hell no!"

Jamie's cry startles all of them, but JJ is the first to inquire what happened.

JJ: "What now?"

J: "She says we should play something called the porn star name game."

S: "Nice!"

JJ: "That's my girl."

As much as the girls are amused by the suggestion, the guys are confused and resistant.

Br: "What the hell is the porn game?"

J: "I'm not playing anything pornographic, JJ."

JJ: "Slowly un-clutch the pearls, grandma. Like you have a choice. Besides, it's harmless. You put the name of your first pet and the street you grew up on together, et voilà, you've got your very own porn star name. For example, mine would be Frosty Phoenix."

S: "Not bad. Let me guess. A cat?"

JJ: "Yep, a fluffy, all-white Persian one. Nikki, that's my bio mom, showed up with it one day. I think I was five or six. The whole time we had her she only warmed up to me. Hence the name. Dad's idea. Turns out my sister's allergic so when we moved to Tree Hill, we left Frosty with our neighbors back in Savannah."

S: "Must have been tough leaving her behind."

Yes, it was. Maybe, tough is even an understatement. The few weeks leading up to the move to Tree Hill were one of the most challenging times any ten-year-old has ever had to face. First, Nikki disappeared without a trace, then a newborn entered her life, and finally, her parents decided to take her away from the only home she's ever known, her school and all of her friends. Not to mention, leave her cat behind. For a long time, JJ found comfort in that when her mother would return, she'd find Frosty in their neighbor's front yard and somehow know how to find her daughter. After all, when Nikki gave her the cat, she did make up a brand new language only the three of them would understand. Then, days turned into nights, weeks, and months, yet there was still no Nikki. Maybe it's more painful when disillusion breaks a young heart. Maybe, that particular scar is permanent. After eight years, JJ's heart aches with as much intensity as the first day it was broken. And, the jokes still do very little to disguise the pain.

JJ: "Well, I suggested we get rid of the newborn, but somehow all I got was disapproving stares. Kinda like you all are giving me right now. I'm just kidding. Of course, it wasn't a choice. Enough about me. Your turn, Sky."

S: "Tinkerbell Mulberry."

JJ: "I love Soho! You live in New York?"

S: "Not anymore, but yes, I was born there. I moved in with grandma in Raleigh when I was eleven."

Br: "Who's Tinkerbell?"

Amused and surprised that Brandon had to ask the question, Jamie finally joins in the conversation.

J: "Well, well, look at that…so you two weren't always attached at the hip. Turns out you don't know everything about her."

Sensing from his expression that Brandon's about to respond not so nicely, Skylar cuts him off.

S: "My galah. If you could call him mine. I only had him for a week."

JJ: "What's a galah?"

S: "A type of parrot. Mom brought it from Australia when I was seven. She was the most beautiful and odd-looking bird I had ever seen back then. There was this pink Mohawk thing on the top of her head. Kept saying _hello gorgeous_."

JJ: "Maybe she bought it from a Streisand fan."

Br: "Why just a week? What happened to it?"

When Skylar pauses for a moment, Brandon wonders if she's trying to recollect exactly what happened to the galah. But, no, that's not it. She remembers perfectly well the night her young and fragile heart was broken for the first time. Once again, by the very person who was supposed to protect it. She could recite the exact moment from memory. But, to articulate the words out loud, well, that's a different story. _In the middle of the night, my mother let the only thing I remember her giving me out the window of our fortieth story New York City apartment. _ _Oh, and all my objections and sobbing got was a slap across the face. _She didn't understand it then, but it was the beginning of her mother's addiction and the start of a long chain of similar letdowns. Maybe the truth is too heavy to reveal this early in the morning. So, just like JJ, Skylar finds safety in a lighter response.

S: "Not sure. But I think she was too loud for a city apartment. Stupid thing waddled around eating grass seeds all day long anyway. You know, I think galah is actually slang for stupid in down under. Shocker, huh? Who's next? Jamie?"

J: "Magic Castle."

As Jamie cringes expecting their reaction, JJ, Brandon, and Skylar immediately burst into a fit of laughter.

J: "Yeah, yeah. Get it all out. Jamie _the Magic Castle _Scott. It's freaking hilarious."

S: "How Disney of you! Please tell me it was a duck or a rabbit. Please, please, pleeeaaase let it be a mouse!"

J: "Sorry to disappoint. Golden retriever. Named after…"

JJ: "Magic Johnson, of course. Could you be any more predictable?"

J: "Who else? Only the greatest point-guard of all time. Dream team. Need I say more?"

Br: "Ugh, basketball. What is with this town? It's like you're all obsessed with the game? Or is it just a Scott thing?"

J: "Both. The Scott men have always played, as far as I know."

S: "Not Brandon."

Skylar's playful nudge is met with Brandon's critical stare as if he can't believe his best friend dares to suggest such a blasphemous thing.

Br: "I'm _not_ a Scott."

JJ: "The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks. Hey Jamie, how come I've never heard of this dog before?"

J: "He died before you moved here."

On his fourth birthday, his parents gave Jamie the puppy he's been bugging them about for almost a year. Nathan told him that he had to work on Haley for months before she caved but not before making him promise to share responsibility with Jamie. He remembers well the oath his mother had them take that day. _We, Nathan Royal and Jamie Lucas Scott, promise to feed, bathe, walk, and pick up after the puppy. The second mom finds her shoes chewed and in drool, the dog's gone. _It was the first thing he co-owned with his dad. Like a secret only they shared. A messy, dirty and extremely loud secret that fell asleep between them on the sofa and played referee to their one-on-one games at River Court. When Magic passed away ten years later, Nathan had already been in a wheelchair for four months. He couldn't even bother put down the bottle or stop popping pills long enough to help his son with the grief. That was when Jamie began to figure out that his world had shifted, that nothing in their family would ever be the same again. Is there anyone with as big an impact on whom we turn out to be than our parents? Almost like they have limitless power to shape our values, beliefs, personalities. Our young hearts are at their mercy. To be loved or abandoned. To be broken or mended.

JJ: "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

J: "So, Brandon, that leaves you."

Br: "I'm so going to regret this. Buzz…Buzz Cumberland."

A disbelieving JJ bangs her hand against the steering wheel as she catches Brandon's eyes in the rear-view mirror again.

JJ: "Nuh-uh. You just made that up!"

Br: "I wish. I was kinda going through a Buzz Lightyear phase. You know, wallpapers, linens and all."

JJ: "To infinity and beyond! I _love_ Toy Story! Was it a dog too? No, wait…it was a goldfish, right?"

Br: "Distant cousin…a water turtle."

The girls let out a collective _aww_ as Jamie rolls his eyes.

J: "Dude, you get the girls fawning over a turtle and I get laughed at for a retriever. How is that normal?"

Br: "A _magic_ dog at that!"

J: "No kidding!"

And, just like that the foursome manage to break the seemingly giant iceberg that had been traveling with them. Skylar reaches inside her purse looking for something, JJ starts bickering with Jamie about which radio station they should listen to, and Brandon…well, he stares out the window. Lost. Again. This time, he's remembering the day his parents gave him Buzz. Even at age six, Brandon knew the out-of-the-blue gift was really to distract him from the adoption talk they had had only a couple of days ago. He found it ironic then, that while he had been trying to protect his parents by not asking anything, they had been worried enough about his reaction to come up with the turtle idea. Of course, then, he didn't know that he owed Buzz to Brooke's unexpected visit when she left the letter behind for him. _She said that she would keep the letter safe for you and that if you ever did ask the question, you would have the answer_. With every turn of the tires he gets that much closer to finding out if what's inside his mom's safety deposit box is indeed Brooke's letter. Before he can disappear further into his thoughts, Skylar's sudden jump forward distracts him.

S: "There's a diner on the right. Hey Frosty, can you pull over?"

JJ: "Sure thing, Tinkerbell."

They all practically run out of the car as soon as JJ parks. When the girls head right for the bathroom leaving boys to order, Brandon yells after them.

Br: "What do you guys want?"

While JJ keeps walking without a response, Skylar asks them to surprise her.

J: "We're cool, man. I know what JJ likes."

Br: "Right. Of course. Good friends."

The boys queue up to order at the counter, and when Jamie senses the awkwardness in the air, he attempts to squash it right away.

J: "Ask me what you want to know."

Br: "You and JJ…I mean are you two…have you ever…"

J: "Geez, it's like pulling teeth with you, cuz. I'll save you the trouble. No. There's nothing between JJ and me. And there never was. Wait, come to think of it, she was my first kiss."

As Jamie smiles at the distant memory, Brandon's frown expresses his disappointment.

J: "Chill, Romeo. I was eight, she was ten. What a cougar! I barely remember a split-second peck on the lips somewhere in between the hair pulling, pushing and name-calling."

When the waitress asks for their order, Jamie wants a double shot of espresso, a bottle of root beer and sausage, egg, and cheese on English muffin, and orders an iced caramel macchiato and a raspberry scone for JJ. Brandon goes for a cup of black coffee, no sugar, no food and gets an earl grey tea and a toasted sesame bagel with butter and jam for Skylar.

J: "Tea? Really? I never would have pegged Sky for a tea drinker."

Br: "She says it reminds her of her grandmother."

They take a seat at a table outdoors in the bright sun. While they wait for their order, Jamie can tell Brandon's not done with the questions.

J: "Ok, let me have it. Come on, don't play dumb. You wanna know about JJ, right?"

Br: "Well, since you're in a sharing mood…is she dating someone?"

J: "Fuck, Walker! No. You cannot go there. JJ's off limits."

Br: "To me or to anyone? I thought you said there's nothing between you two."

J: "This isn't about me. It's about her. She's been through so much. Look, I know she looks tough, but she's fragile. I will not let anyone hurt her."

Brandon recognizes in Jamie the same protective instinct he's always felt towards Skylar. He respects and understands the need for the warning, but honestly, he wishes his cousin had known JJ would never need protection from him.

Br: "And you immediately think I'll hurt her?"

J: "You don't have the best track record around here now, do you? This chin is my witness. Besides, aren't you the one who keeps saying your sorry ass is outta here in a couple of weeks? What happens to her when you leave? What? You wanna send her love letters from whatever hole you end up at next?"

The mere mention of the word _love_ makes Brandon raise his eyebrows and hold up both his hands.

Br: "Woah. Back up. Who said anything about love? We just met a couple of weeks ago."

J: "Fine, but tell me something. Who do you think gets to pick up the pieces after you disappear? Don't start something you can't finish."

Br: "Look who's talking!"

J: "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Br: "Skylar. That's what it means."

J: "What about her?"

Br: "I'm not blind, ok? Late night swims, thousand dollar bail outs…you're into her."

J: "You haven't told her about the money, have you?"

Br: "No. I'm staying out of it. Figured you'll tell her if you want to."

J: "Good. Let's keep this between us for now. And, for the record, there's nothing going on between me and Sky."

Shaking his head, Brandon looks away wishing he had already had his morning coffee to help with this conversation.

Br: "Yeah, yeah. You're sounding more and more like a broken record. Jamie's a deserted island…nada between J. Scott and the women of the world."

J: "For the sake of argument, let's assume you're right. Let's say I like her. So what?"

Br: "In case you forgot, she doesn't live here either. You just accused me of starting something I can't finish. She's leaving too."

J: "Well then you should be having this conversation with her, don't you think?"

Br: "The departing heart can break just as easily as the left behind one."

J: "Now you're a poet? Save some of that inspiration for the best man speech."

Br: "I'm _not_ giving a fucking speech. It's just a quick thing at city hall, not some elaborate party. They're lucky I'm showing up for the stupid charade. If anyone's expecting a speech, they're sorely mistaken."

J: "All I know is that it's customary. But then there's nothing ordinary about this wedding."

When the waitress arrives with their orders, it takes a few moments for them to figure out who gets which plate and cup. While Jamie digs into his muffin sandwich, Brandon quietly sips from his coffee.

J: "You know, your parents spoke at my parents' wedding. I used to catch da…"

Realizing that he was about to refer to Nathan as _dad_, Jamie stops himself and clears his throat before he continues.

J: "…Nathan, I used to catch him watching their wedding video late at night. I must have seen it a hundred times. Uncle Luke was the best man and aunt Brooke was the maid of honor."

Br: "Lily gave me a picture of the two of them dancing. Brooke said it was at that wedding."

J: "Red dress and the tux?"

Br: "Yeah."

J: "The dance is on the video too. I can show it to you sometime if you'd like."

Jamie takes another bite of his sandwich waiting for the answer that never comes as Brandon takes a sip from his coffee and silently stares out into space.

J: "Too mushy for ya? Fine. Be like that. It's just the past, man. You can't erase it. What are you afraid of? That if you see them together and happy, you'll have to hate them less? God, the horror!"

Br: "You really need to start looking in the mirror."

J: "Not the same. My so-called father is a card-carrying asshole whose fake remorse stinks of rotten eggs. Your father is a genuine good guy…"

Br: "…who abandoned his only child at birth. Not to mention his pregnant girlfriend. Yeah, really, the best guy ever."

J: "My parents stayed together. Got married. Kept me. They did all the right things according to the gospel of Saint Brandon. Look what happened to them. There's no damn formula or some secret recipe for happiness, man. Aren't we all kinda making it up as we go? You can pretend to hate it all you want, but you're standing up there next to uncle Luke tomorrow as he says I do. Better start hoping he doesn't screw it up this time."

There's a kind of determination in Jamie's manner when he talks about the upcoming nuptials that surprises Brandon. For some reason, he didn't expect his jaded cousin to join the long list of pro-wedding people. In fact, Brandon begins to wonder if his name might be the only one in the anti-wedding column. It takes a certain kind of will and strength to not waver in our stand in the face of overwhelming opposition. At the very least, we start questioning the fundamentals of our belief, the basic reasons behind our argument. After all, can one person be absolutely right and the rest of the world completely wrong? At such troublesome moments, it's Skylar who usually distracts Brandon. But alas, his savior is nowhere in sight.

Br: "Where the hell are the girls?"

J: "Bathrooms…they're like a bottomless vortex for the female kind."

Jamie's not exactly wrong; it's not like either JJ or Skylar is in a hurry to get back to the table despite having claimed how hungry they were. While JJ goes in the stall, Skylar takes her spot in front of the mirror and takes out her eyeliner from her purse to fix her make-up. They engage in playful banter about how they are both in desperate need of caffeine to handle the pain of an early morning roadtrip and, of course, about the somewhat obvious tension between the boys. Skylar is glad that instead of theorizing until she finds the real culprit for the tension, hers truly, JJ decides to tell her how she ended up coming along on the trip.

S: "He asked you out?"

JJ: "Not exactly. Well, kind of."

When her hand shakes so much that she can't draw straight with the eyeliner, Skylar angrily slams it on the counter by the sink. She takes a deep breath to calm herself, reaches inside the left pocket of her cardigan, and takes out a small transparent plastic bag full of pills.

S: "We're talking about the same guy here? Brandon Lucas Walker?"

JJ: "Ok. I don't think it counts as a real date. He sort of stumbled a bit and ended up taking the easy way out making it a group thing."

Skylar mumbles inaudibly a few curses when she struggles with opening the bag. Giving up, she rips it open, randomly pulls out a pill, quickly throws it into her mouth, and attempts to re-tie the bag to hold it together.

S: "I guess he could do worse than you."

As she hears JJ flash, Skylar pulls her hair to the side and bends over the sink to drink some water from the tap.

JJ: "Thanks. So glad you approve."

The moment JJ reappears out of the stall, her sarcasm and smile disappear. And, all her attention gets focused on the bag of pills she sees on the counter. Before she can react, Skylar stands up and quickly grabs the bag dropping it in her pocket. As JJ slowly walks forward towards the sink and starts washing her hands, an uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu begins to awaken. Yes, she was much younger and the culprit much older. But, the rainbow of pills on a bathroom counter, the guilt, the helplessness…they all add up to the same sinking feeling. The one that basically became the norm leading up to her mother's disappearance. Unaware that her pill bag has been discovered or that the silent JJ isn't really listening to a word she's saying, Skylar keeps going on and on.

S: "That's huge for Brandon. I mean he's been interested in other girls before and believe me they all throw themselves at his feet."

As JJ dries her hands with a paper towel, Skylar leans closer to the mirror to try fixing her make-up again.

S: "I don't think he's ever asked any girl out for as long as I've known him. Maybe he's in love!"

As an oblivious Skylar leans back to check if her eye make-up is even, fueled by her curiosity as much as her anger, JJ musters up enough courage to take a step forward, turn to face her companion and ask the inevitable question.

JJ: "What are you on? E?"

Letting out a loud chuckle, Skylar keeps her focus on the mirror, this time, fixing her hair.

S: "You're right. I'd have to be high to suggest Brandon's in love!"

JJ: "Stop! Just, stop. Look at me."

When the simple three words sound more like a stern demand, Skylar finally turns to face JJ.

S: "What is your deal?"

JJ: "_My_ deal? Look at _you_!"

Her hands go straight for Skylar's shoulders grabbing them tight and she stares directly into her practically blood-shut eyes. She shakes her head incredulous that she didn't see it before. After all, she has seen the same sedated look in Nikki's eyes maybe a million times before. The same slow breathing, the same sweaty hands, and the same trembling body. Nothing about this particular moment is new. Just an old dreadful memory she wished she had left behind.

JJ: "What the fuck are you on? Ritalin? Oxy? Vicodin?"

S: "Get your hands off of me!"

Skylar yanks her shoulders away from JJ's tight grip and returns to face the mirror to fix her hair. Denial is the unavoidable first reaction. No matter how useless they both know it is.

S: "What are you? A pharmacist?"

JJ: "Try cancer survivor. Not to mention daughter of an addict. I'm way more familiar with those little pain killers in your pocket than I ever care to be."

Slowly dropping her hands to her sides, Skylar turns her attention back on JJ with an apologetic look.

S: "Cancer?"

JJ: "Leukemia. Almost three years in remission."

S: "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

JJ: "Forget about me. Tell me what you just took."

Breaking eye contact again, Skylar shrugs her shoulders wishing her last ditch effort at denial does the trick.

S: "I have no idea what you're talking about."

JJ: "I'm not an idiot, Sky. I saw the bag."

S: "Aspirin. Ok? I have a killer headache. Are you satisfied now?"

Brandon has told Skylar once that one of the things that drew him to her was her uncensored honesty. When they first met three years ago, among the social workers, judges, neighbors, foster families who kept telling him everything would be all right, Skylar's inability to lie stood out as a strangely comforting anomaly. _Life sucks, Brandon. We'd better stick together cause it'll get much worse before it gets better. _Maybe because she's seen first-hand the damage lies cause, she doesn't see the use in them. But, there are those rare moments when she wishes she could be the world's greatest con artist. Disguise something so well that it remains hidden, unseen, unheard. A little white lie and the world keeps turning. As is. Safe. But, this time, her confronter is as good at seeing through the lies as she is bad at telling them. So refusing to let it go, a determined JJ issues her order.

JJ: "Empty your pocket."

Skylar pulls out her cellphone and a tube of lip-gloss from her right pocket and holds them in the palm of her right hand for JJ to see. Her left hand remains safely tucked inside her left pocket with a death grip on the bag of pills.

JJ: "No, the left one."

S: "I don't have to do anything. I don't owe you any explanations. Stop acting like an undercover cop!"

An impatient JJ lunges forward to grab Skylar's hand out of her pocket. She ends up pulling the bag along as well, tearing open the plastic and spilling the contents. They both watch in shock as a number of whites, yellows and blues in different sizes scatter on the floor and the counter around the sink. As she sees a few pills drop down the drain, a pissed-off and panicked Skylar jumps forward to collect as many as she can.

S: "Shit! What the hell did you do?"

JJ: "Damn it Sky! You've got an entire pharmacy on you!"

JJ tries to stop Skylar from picking up the pills, but she pushes her away.

S: "Fuck off! You had no right!"

JJ: "Unbelievable! You're a junkie! You're a fucking junkie!"

S: "Stop calling me that! You know nothing about me! I am _not _a junkie!"

JJ: "Yeah? You've got prescriptions for all those? I don't think so. It's just for fun, huh? You don't need them, right? You can stop anytime you want? Is that why you're about to dig down the drain? Spare me the bullshit. I've heard it all before. Does Brandon know?"

S: "Keep him out of this. He has nothing to do with it. Why do you care anyway? You need a shiny new cause to picket and march for? A new big bad villain to crucify? Stay out of my pockets! While you're at it, stay the hell away from me!"

JJ: "I can't do that. There are people who care about you. You need help. We can help you."

That's when Skylar's anger takes a backseat. The yelling, the scowling, and the growling stops and unstoppable laughter takes over. After all, the ridiculousness of the suggestion amuses her, and she's quick to return the favor.

S: "_I _need help? That's just genius! I'm not the one fucking my best friend's boyfriend behind her back. That would be you, Frosty!"

The mocking laughter disappears leaving the stage to the vicious snarl. An utterly shocked JJ freezes for a second but recovers quickly.

JJ: "What the hell are you talking about?"

S: "You and your Latin lover. Who else? That was some brilliant acting on your part at the cemetery the other day. What? You thought we bought your lies? You are so fucking him. Maybe Jamie is blind to your crap but I see right through this tomboy virgin costume straight to your inner whore."

Instinct takes over, so without thinking, JJ slaps her accuser hard across the face. As Skylar's hand goes for the painful sting on her cheek, JJ screams for her to stop talking.

JJ: "Shut up! Just shut up! You have no idea what you're saying."

Appalled and outraged that JJ dares to hit her, Skylar hesitates briefly about what to do next. She knows what happens if she stays. And, she's not sure that it's a good idea to pull out, one by one, all of JJ's hair when the boys are right outside the door. So, her hand still rubbing her cheek, she turns around and walks out without a word. Taken aback by her own action, JJ remains speechless as she watches her leave. When she finally calls after her, Skylar's already out of sight behind the closed door. So, she turns towards the sink and bangs a clenched fist on the counter.

JJ: "Shit!"

She splashes some water on her stunned face, pinches her blanched cheeks to bring out some color, takes a deep breath, and follows Skylar out the bathroom. As she walks out the diner and towards their table, she notices that the boys are staring at Skylar who's silently heading towards the car. It seems she's not the only one with a case of sudden loss of appetite. Without stopping, she motions for the boys to follow her.

JJ: "Let's go."

Br: "But, the food…"

She grabs her macchiato off the table and keeps walking towards the car. Confused more than ever, the boys slowly get up, leave a few bills to cover the tab, and start following her lead. As Brandon lingers behind taking a one last look at all the food left on the table, he can't help but wonder what the hell must have happened in the bathroom. Accepting the mystery just a little easier than his cousin, Jamie yells after him to pick up the pace.

J: "Women. They're an enigma."

While Jamie waits for Brandon to catch up to the rest, driving on the same road maybe about fifteen minutes behind them, it seems Nathan shares his son's sentiment.

Nathan: "Women. They're an enigma."

Lucas: "That's it? I tell you Brooke kissed me and all you can say is women are an enigma?"

After the Blue Post, Lucas couldn't make himself go home. The mere idea of trying to fall asleep in the same room as Brooke after the events of the night threatened to keep him awake counting sheep all night. So, he dropped Brandon and Brooke off at home and told them that he would take a drive to clear his head. _Don't wait up for me, not that you would. _But, Brooke did. For hours, she paced back and forth in front of their bedroom window and jumped forward at every headlight, until she fell asleep on the armchair with one hand partially pulling aside the curtains. It was Nathan who woke her up at two in the morning. _Lucas is here. He's fine. Go back to sleep._ If she hadn't been completely exhausted out of anger and worry, she would have run out in her nightgown and slippers to give the irresponsible jackass about to become her husband…_her husband_…a piece of her mind. Yes, the irresponsible jackass did drive around for a while, but clearing his head…well, that wasn't meant to be. He drove straight to the beach, sat on the sand watching the waves crash onshore. But, the night sky lit up by heat lightning kept reminding him of everything he tried to forget. So, he got back in his car and ended up at his brother's doorstep. After his inquiries into what happened were met with silent stares, a half-asleep Nathan gave up. Dropping a pillow and a blanket on the sofa, he left Lucas alone with his insomnia tossing and turning all night. It was clear Lucas was hiding from something and Nathan didn't have to guess who his brother was running from. So, when the answers he was after last night slowly start coming, Nathan is glad Lucas finally decides to open up.

N: "What would you like me to say?"

L: "I don't know, give some advice? Tell me what to do? We had this amazing night with our son. God, it still feels so strange to say that. Our son! We were both completely honest for the first time about a lot of things. And, she kissed me. Really kissed me, Nate."

Holding up a hand, Nathan cuts short his passenger's description of the kiss.

N: "Okay, I can do without the visual."

L: "Then she says it was nothing and walks away. Done and over. Like it never happened!"

Having patiently listened to his brother recount the story, Nathan can't help but share his opinion.

N: "Okay. So, you're saying you're completely innocent in all this? Luke, wake up, man! You broke her heart. And, she broke yours. Yes, years ago. But, neither of you are over it. Honestly, you never will be. So, last night, she ran first. And, then you did. Don't look at me like that. You ran. Isn't that why you slept over at my place last night? Why you're in my car now instead of your wife-to-be's? You two are the same, Lucas. You're both terrified of what's happening. But, it's happening regardless. And I'm guessing you don't want to hear any of that. So, I'll stick with enigma. For now."

L: "Does this whole psychoanalysis thing work in your own life, Dr. Scott?"

N: "Not that I don't appreciate the present cocky company, but don't you think I'd be driving with my wife and son if it did? Much easier to point out someone else's mistakes than to fix your own."

Lucas agrees. After all, doctors aren't supposed to diagnose themselves, attorneys are handicapped when it comes to defending themselves, and even the best professors struggle to teach themselves. Sometimes, we're blind to the most obvious answers right under our noses or we become utterly inept at applying the only cure to our malady. Distance brings with it an objective perspective. Kind of like how Nathan Scott looks at his brother's life and knows with every fiber of his being with whom he belongs. Not unlike how Lucas Scott knows the same about him. So, he breaks the minute or two of silence with the question he's been wanting to ask since Nathan practically invited himself to the wedding.

L: "What's your plan?"

When Nathan sends a brief confused look his way, Lucas elaborates.

L: "A plan to get closer to Haley this weekend? You have one, right? I mean you made us turn the wedding into a circus with the entire town in attendance just so you could spend time with her."

N: "Well, you see, by doing just that you messed up the plan. It was supposed to be only me and Haley, not the entire town."

L: "You're forgetting Rachel. The rest, well, sorry about that. Brooke thought inviting the kids would be good for Brandon. Look at it this way, two birds with one stone. You can work on Jamie at the same time."

N: "Oh, I haven't told you about the deal Jamie and I made the other day. He's having dinner with me twice a week for three months."

L: "Very funny."

A disbelieving Lucas laughs as he looks out the window but Nathan's persistence intrigues him.

N: "I'm serious. Tuesdays and Thursday after practice."

L: "There's no way Jamie agreed to that. How did you pull it off?"

N: "Well, actually, it was more of a mutually beneficial trade. He needed money, I needed him. Both sides walked away happy."

L: "Money? It must have been a lot if he was willing to spend that much time with you."

N: "Gee, thanks."

L: "You know what I mean. Wait, why does Jamie need money? Is he in trouble?"

N: "He swore he isn't. But, I don't know. This way I can keep an eye on him. But, I need your help. He'd talk to you over me any day of the week. So, just let me know if you see or hear something. And, you can't tell Haley. I promised him."

L: "I don't like this, Nate. First he gets in a fight the night of Brandon's birthday party, now this?"

As Lucas shakes his head trying to digest all the new information he just heard about his nephew, Nathan can't hide his shock about what Lucas lets slip so nonchalantly.

N: "What fight?"

L: "I thought you knew. Haley said he showed up with a bruise on his chin and he wouldn't tell her who hit him. I don't know much more."

N: "How did I not notice it? Luke, I swear it wasn't me. But, honestly, I wouldn't blame you for thinking it."

L: "Nate, no. I know it wasn't you. Come to think of it…I wonder if Jamie asking for money has anything to do with Brandon stealing from Brooke. The timing is very suspicious."

N: "You think they both needed the cash for the same thing?"

L: "I don't know, but we'd better find out."

N: "It's nice that our sons are hanging out, but this fight and now the money stuff sounds a hell of a lot more outlaw than what I had in mind."

L: "Yep, our very own Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."

N: "The real question is who's the Kid and who's the Butch?"

L: "Why couldn't they just shoot hoops at River Court?"

N: "Yeah, because that worked so well for us once upon a time."

As he turns his attention back on the road, Nathan smiles at the distant memory of how River Court kick-started their relationship. _You and me, one on one. Time and place, baby. Time and place. _No, it wasn't always the supportive brotherhood it is now. But, somehow along the way, everything changed. _You ready for this? Why not? It's your life. Yeah, it is._ They began to see that they were more alike than different, that despite the seemingly unbeatable odds stacked up against them, it was more than blood that linked them. One word: Haley. He began to think that if she could see the real Nathan and still stick around, he could let others in as well. And, maybe, he could start with Lucas. That's what love does. For those incredibly lucky to have found it. Affection, faith and forgiveness win over sorrow, animosity and deception. All of a sudden, the impossible bends to our will, that elusive meaning of life reveals itself, and the world becomes our brand new shiny playground. And, isn't that why we fall? Why we take the risk of ending up on the dark and lonely bottom for a tiny chance to feel so invincible, so alive? Nathan Scott took that risk once. It would be an understatement to say it paid off. He didn't just get a wife and a son, he also got a brother. So, no, maybe he doesn't quite have a _plan_ to beat the odds this time, but who can blame him for wishing he can do it again? Not just him, but his brother as well.

N: "What's _your_ plan?"

L: "_My_ plan?"

N: "Yes, you idiot. It's _your_ wedding we're driving to. I don't care if the whole world thinks it's just a formality. You and I both know better. So, what's your plan to stop Brooke from running again? How are you gonna make her believe? How are you gonna make her see the love is still there?"

Nathan stops himself when he realizes that he has yet to ask the most important question of all.

N: "You're still in love with her, aren't you?"

While Lucas responds with a pensive and silent stare, in another car on the same road about fifteen miles behind, Brooke has a very different reaction to the same question.

Rachel: "He's still in love with you, isn't he?"

Brooke: "Rachel! Are you even listening to me?"

R: "That fucking bastard!"

Haley: "Hey! You're talking about my best friend and the father of her only child. A little respect would go a long way."

Rachel's unfazed by Brooke's death stare from the passenger seat or Haley's heavy punch to her shoulder from the back seat.

R: "Respect? Where was this respect you speak of when he shacked up with the skinny alternate two seconds after his pregnant girlfriend left town?"

H: "That's not exactly how I remember it."

B: "Guys, guys, guys…stop it! All of that is ancient history. Can we focus on the right now please? What the hell am I going to do about Lucas?"

R: "Cut him up in tiny little pieces? I knew that machete I keep in the trunk would come in handy some day. I say we stir fry the jackass."

H: "Ok, I'm never eating at your house."

Rachel catches Haley rolling her eyes in the rear view mirror and it makes her smile even wider.

R: "You hurt me Hales. There I was about to use my special gold pen to write your dinner invitation."

B: "Can you two grow up for one second and help me?"

R: "How about we tie him up real good and tight? I'm thinking a big block of cement at the end of the rope. And, oops, he just slips off the boat in the middle of the ocean? No, that won't work. He'd probably float what with his bloated ego and all."

H: "Is she always this homicidal?"

R: "I have so many perfect murder scenarios for Lucas that your head will spin!"

For the last hour, the trio has been driving together down to Myrtle Beach in Rachel's fire-red Aston Martin convertible. It wasn't exactly a pleasant surprise for Rachel to see Haley when she arrived that morning to drop off Skylar and pick up Brooke. And, no one can say that the roadtrip has been a peaceful one so far. Especially after Rachel picked up on Brooke's anxious mood and made her spill the events of last night including Lucas's temporary vanishing act. For every anti-Lucas comment from Rachel, Haley chimes in with a pro-Lucas one and the bickering goes on and on…so much so that Brooke is beginning to regret ever saying anything. But the inevitable fact is that these are her closest friends in the whole world; the two people, after her son of course, whose opinions matter the most and whose advice she values above any other's. So, despite knowing full well that they are never going to agree on anything, Brooke asks for their help anyway.

B: "I'm serious guys. Just when I thought we had become friends again, that we've finally found some semblance of balance, last night happened. I don't know what to do."

Haley leans forward from the backseat to get closer to Brooke.

H: "What exactly bothers you more? That you kissed him or that he wanted more?"

Throwing her arms up in the air, a frustrated Brooke objects loudly.

B: "It's official. Neither of you are listening to me. I didn't kiss him, Haley. Like I told him, it wasn't us…"

Obviously not buying her excuses, Rachel cuts her short.

R: "Yeah, yeah, yeah, we heard you…wasn't you, old times, teenage memories, caught up…bullshit! It wasn't some cheap sci-fi trick, Davis. You can deny it till the cows come home but we all know it was your damn lips on his. And it must have been some kiss!"

B: "What's that supposed to mean?"

R: "Well, Lucas disappears into the night and look at you…you're a nervous wreck. So, yeah, some kiss."

B: "He didn't disappear, he went to Nathan's. And, I am _not_ a wreck!"

H: "A blabbering mess?"

B: "Haley! Not you too!"

H: "Listen, I'm not so sure what happened is such a bad thing. You wanted to kiss him and so you did. It's not the end of the world. I mean you are getting married tomorrow."

B: "Exactly! That's what worries me. This marriage was never supposed to be about hearts or flowers. It's a business transaction between two people with one clear goal…custody of our son. We have strict terms and conditions for God's sake. The last thing I want is to jeopardize our deal because I happened to…"

When Rachel bursts into a fit of laughter, Brooke is forced to bring to a halt this long and serious speech she had just begun about the dangers of breaching the pre-nup.

B: "What? What the hell is so funny?"

R: "It's like I'm watching CNBC! You're not acquiring a company, Brooke. You're getting married. You're not that stupid to think that a silly list of do's and don'ts will keep things simple, are you? It's you and Lucas. Nothing about you two has ever been simple."

Actually, nothing about the heart is ever simple. And, for Brooke Davis, Lucas Scott has always been about the heart. The pitch perfect example of how one tiny organ can hold an uncountable number of emotions crashing into one another to dictate the course of her life. Sorrow, obsession, vengeance, adoration, pain, loyalty…love. No, it's not like she has spent the last seventeen years hopelessly in love with him or desperately waiting for the day he comes back into her life. There's been another man who owns that particularly tragic throne, Brandon. But, she would be lying if she claimed that the lack of Lucas had nothing to do with the all-so-familiar feeling of tormenting incompleteness, insufferable restlessness and agonizing longing living deep in her soul. Rachel is right; there's nothing simple about her and Lucas. Thinking or talking about it doesn't make a difference. So, giving up, Brooke lets out a growly _ugh_ and drops her head on top of her folded arms over the dashboard.

R: "I second that motion."

H: "Third it."

R: "Oh oh, is something afoul in the wonderful world of Haley James Scott? Didn't have time to make the bed this morning?"

Raising her head off the dashboard, Brooke lightly slaps Rachel's arm with the back of her hand as she turns around to face her friend in the back seat.

B: "Haley, what's wrong? Is it Nathan?"

H: "Why would it be Nathan?"

B: "I just assumed you might be nervous about him being there this weekend. Well, aren't you?"

Yes, she is. More than nervous, really. Like the calm before the worst thunderstorm. While she packed last night and got ready this morning, Haley thought of a million ways to get out of the impending trip. A sudden onset of flu-like symptoms, a recording emergency, her house on fire, even a miraculous divine intervention…anything to avoid Nathan. Especially after how her son reacted the last time they spent two minutes together, Haley knows the tension is inevitable. But, the thought that her two best friends might get married without her…well, that was simply unacceptable. Besides, there's something else more pressing that preoccupies her mind these days.

H: "It's Jamie. Something's been up with him since he got back from High Flyers."

R: "What gave it away? The fist print on Brooke's wall?"

B: "Did you ever figure out who he fought with that night?"

R: "A fight? Is the good son turning bad?"

H: "He doesn't talk to me anymore. Since he saw me and Nathan hugging at Brandon's birthday party, he barely said two words to me. And, this thing with the new girl…"

B: "What new girl?"

H: "Skylar. What do you know about her?"

R: "How's Jamie seeing Skylar? She barely left home this whole week!"

H: "I don't know if they're seeing each other. I just get this feeling. Wait, she's staying with you?"

B: "Rach volunteered to take her in when Luke and I were dealing with the stealing drama."

H: "Right. Did he ever tell you why he needed the money?"

B: "Nope. My son talks to me less than yours talks to you."

When Brooke and Haley let out a collective sigh, Rachel feels the need to intervene.

R: "People, you're talking about teenagers here. Hormones and acne alone gives them a right to rebel. Doesn't matter if you raised them all their lives or just met them. Remember what you were like then? Married and knocked up. And, you, well on-the-run and knocked up. So, count your lucky stars all you get are a few stolen bills and a pathetic attempt at punching a wall."

H: "I just get this bad feeling that the girl is smack in the middle of all this stuff with both Jamie and Brandon."

R: "You can't blame someone because of a gut feeling Haley. Look, I'm not saying Skylar is some goody-two-shoes, Doris Day type. She's just a lonely kid with some issues. Sound familiar? If nothing else, you gotta admit that life was pretty fucked up for both your sons before she ever entered the picture."

B: "You really care about her, don't you?"

R: "Well, someone has to. And, surprisingly, it's not that difficult."

H: "How long is she…"

Rachel quickly reaches forward for a dial on the car radio and she cranks the volume up so high that the sound cuts Haley off before she can finish her question.

R: "Shhhh….I love love _love_ this song!"

"_I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction."_

As she starts singing along with the Rolling Stones, her hand goes for the panel hitting the button that slowly starts rolling down the top on her convertible.

R: "It's the perfect driving song! Davis, sing with me!"

Brooke needs little encouragement to join in the chorus. With smiles as big as they come, Brooke keeps rhythm with her hands on the dashboard as Rachel does with her shoulders.

"_Cause I try and I try and I try and I try."  
I can't get no, I can't get no."_

When she notices that Haley hasn't followed suit, Brooke spins around to pull her in too.

B: "Come on Haley!"

R: "We all know it's been a long time since you were…uhm well, satisfied. God knows it's been way too long for me."

H: "How do you know that? I could be having a torrid affair with the pool boy."

She gets a brief moment of quizzical stares and even a slightly proud grin from Rachel, but she caves too soon.

H: "Ok, fine. Brooke's the only one getting any around here."

As one song turns into another, then another, Brooke, Rachel and Haley spend the rest of the trip singing loud into the wind with more than one case of arms and hair all tangled up in the hot summer air. And, before they know it, they arrive at their final destination. When they pull up into the driveway, they notice that they're the last ones to arrive. While Rachel turns off the radio, Brooke sees Karen handing the kids sandwiches and sodas from a case in her popped up trunk. After all, one can always count on Karen Roe to feed the hungry. Having just pulled up themselves, Nathan and Lucas are parking the car. When Jamie waves over to her, Haley's the first to get out. Before Brooke can follow suit, she's stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

R: "Hey, wait a second."

B: "What's up?"

R: "Are you going be ok?"

B: "Yeah. The stuff with Lucas, it's just confusing, you know? But, I'll figure it out."

R: "No, I don't mean Lucas. I mean…"

Rachel turns to her left and Brooke follows her gaze.

R: "…the house."

For a long second, they both end up staring at the white two-story building with a red roof and floor-to-ceiling all-around windows.

B: "The house."

R: "You haven't been back here since…"

…Brandon was born. Brooke and Rachel moved to New York City the day she was discharged from the hospital. They didn't even go back to pack their bags. Everything they owned was boxed up by a moving company and delivered to the doorstep of their new apartment in Greenwich Village. That is everything except for maternity dresses, toys and baby clothes Brooke couldn't help but accumulate during her pregnancy. As soon as the Walkers walked out of her hospital room, amidst her unstoppable tears, Brooke made Rachel promise to get rid of all those reminders of the son she gave up, the mementos of the life she was never meant to have. What she doesn't know is that Rachel couldn't bring herself to part with any of it. So, she gave the movers specific instructions to box them all up separately and leave behind in the attic. And, this house…well, it's the biggest reminder neither could make disappear. The porch swing they were sitting at when Brooke felt the baby's first kick, the cold bathroom tiles she cried on more than once, the creaky kitchen floorboards she forbid Rachel from getting fixed because she claimed her son loved the sound, the smell of the ocean entrenched in the curtains, the morning sun shining through the bay windows that woke them up every morning, the meticulously white ceiling that she stared at night after night as she wished for a life she knew would never come. This house once lived and died with that wish, that hope, that dream. The day she said farewell to her son in the hospital, she also made the decision to never return…unless she wasn't alone anymore.

B: "Everything's different now. He's here. Being here with him…it feels right. Yeah, I'm going to be ok."

R: "You know I'm here if you need me."

B: "I do. Thank you. Oh hey, can I borrow your car? Luke and I have a date at City Hall."

Rachel smiles as she hands the keys to Brooke. As soon as they get out of the car, Rachel calls for everyone to gather and follow her inside for their room assignments. Taking a bit longer than the rest, Brooke remains behind staring at the house when Lucas approaches.

L: "Hey."

B: "Hey."

L: "Brandon's here. You can relax that finger off 911."

When an unusually quiet Brooke keeps her eyes fixed on the house, it's clear to Lucas he's getting the cold-shoulder treatment.

L: "You ok?"

B: "Fine."

L: "Brooke, you're mad at me. I get it. I'm sorry about last night. I should have called you."

B: "Yeah, you should have. Thank God Nathan had decency to do it for you. You can't just take off like that Lucas. You're not alone anymore. You have a son now. And, there's me. _I_ worry about you."

It sounds less like a planned confrontation than a spontaneous stream of furious consciousness. Brooke realizes neither the meaning behind her words nor how much she raises her voice to practically spit them out. To her, it's the simple facts. Uncomplicated. Basic. Lucas Scott isn't alone anymore. There are people who depend on him. A son and a fiancée who worry about him. His life is intertwined with theirs. Most of us search high and low to find what Brooke accuses him of taking for granted. The feeling of being needed. Wanted. Cared for. And, it naturally brings a content smile to his face. But, seeing how mad Brooke is, he immediately hides it.

L: "It won't happen again."

Slowly cooling down, Brooke crosses her arms over her chest as she turns her stare back on the house.

B: "Better not."

L: "I promise."

B: "Okay."

Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis are two of the fallen. A long time ago, they both caught the world's most desirable sickness. To this day, neither has fully recovered. That's the thing about the fall…it's not just a temporary illusion, a perception, a sentiment, a thought. No, it's as real as a punch in the gut. A baffling ailment. Incomprehensible and exhilarating. A delightful malady. So despite our better judgment, we keep coming back to the edge of that familiar cliff. Just like Brooke and Lucas are doing yet again. And as they stand staring down into the abyss, something in their hearts tells them to close their eyes, hold hands and jump.

L: "Shall we go apply for our marriage license?"

B: "I'm ready."

And pray that they catch one and other before they hit the dark and lonely bottom. Once again.

"_Love is in truth a baffling ailment, it is a delightful malady, a most desirable sickness. Whoever is free of it likes not to be immune, and whoever is struck down by it yearns not to recover."  
~Ibn Hazm, 10__th__ century Spanish philosopher_


	24. Epilogue

Hello my fellow loyal readers,

As many of you have already guessed, I unfortunately have had to take a long hiatus from writing Unexpected Sparks. Bottomline is that life has gotten in the way. I've moved to a new country and started a very demanding job. Please don't hate me for saying this but I do not expect the lack of time problem to change any time soon. Which all means that I have to do what I've dread and delayed for months and officially give up on this story. Unexpected Sparks is categorized as _complete_ as of today. Believe me, it's a day of mourning for me.

Thank you so very much for following me into the world of Brandon & Co. It was lovely meeting you all along the way. I hope you and your loved ones a wonderful holiday season and a 2012 that fixes much that was wrong with 2011.

Best,

Greens

PS: A series of virtual hugs go out to several of you who have responded to my request for BL first dance songs many moons ago. A special thanks to BDavisLScott23 for suggesting Nickelback's Far Away. The melody, the lyrics, and the overall sentiment would have been perfect for the BL moment I had in mind. The words may never get written, but the thought will linger in fanfiction.


End file.
